Fire Born
by wickedlfairy17
Summary: Being the Master of Death was a curse, plain and simple. That had been death's intention when he 'gifted' his trinkets to the brothers three. The sound of shedding skin crackled loudly in his ear as he got up to look over his new body, he was a girl this time, maybe eight or nine years old. Time travel fic Tom RiddleX Harry potter
1. Burn

A.N.: This idea has been buzzing around my head for a while so here it is! Lol Read and Review! Let me know what you all think! Chapter One: Burn"The phoenix must burn to emerge." –Janet Fitch

**~Harry~**

Harry coughed harshly feeling smoke being forcefully expelled from his mouth; it was black and curled around his face burning his already dry eyes. Being the Master of Death didn't make your body immortal; it didn't make you particularly powerful or give you a great insight into how the world works. Being the Master of Death was a curse, plain and simple. That had been death's intention when he 'gifted' his trinkets to the brothers three. Because to be a master of something so far out of the realms of the physical did things to your very soul that you wish desperately to cleanse.

The first time Harry had been reincarnated he hadn't been sure what had happened, he had been confused and had been frantic. That had cost him since he spent most of that life in a loony bin questioning whether everything he had ever known been real. The time after that he had been able to get his bearings faster, it had helped he had woken as a baby as opposed to the teenager of the last time. It had taken him more then a few lifetimes to figure out what exactly had happened, and what was happening to him.

Being the Master of Death meant a lot of things but it didn't protect you from dying when your body gave out or was killed. No, being the Master just meant that you got recycled into a new freshly dead body with all your memories but none of the bodies. Harry had woken up in what was once a stillborn body a few times, had been girls a few times, boys a few times, and occasionally a grown person. His features changed, his gender changed, his nationality, the time changed, but one thing stayed the same. His eyes always remained his startling green color even if the body's original eye color had been different. Harry had a few theories on that but in the grand scheme of things his eye color mattered very little.

Waking up in a new body is always hard, and depending on how the person died it was sometimes very painful. The surge of power that came from his soul entering the body always manages to fix it to what it was before they passed but Harry still felt every moment of it. As he expelled more smoke Harry tried to force himself to move, to do something but his new body felt tight and unyielding. He heard a faint crackle of skin and knew that this body had most likely been burnt to death. It would take a long time for it to be useable, and Harry wheezed as he tried to ignore the pain.

He only got this regenerative healing session once, when he first enters a body; after that Harry knew he was on his own. He had died of starvation enough to know that it was not pleasant; in fact dying in itself was very unpleasant. When you're _dead_ it's peaceful, but the process of getting there always is uncomfortable. Harry had been hanged, drowned, burned, beheaded, stabbed, and had wasted away from cancer more then once. Starvation was still one of the most unpleasant, but being raped to death as a little girl had been the worst. In fact, once he has awakened his body never lasts very long in the outside world.

Harry had a theory that somehow other people could sense that he wasn't meant to be there, that his life was an abomination that needed to be snuffed out. That he was the freak his relatives of long ago accused him of being. He had experienced enough mothers smothering him with pillows as they cried about him being born dead to know that what he was now a true freak of nature. People could not accept him, no matter his form; they felt uncomfortable or driven to doing horrible things to him.

There wasn't anything Harry could do about it though, only suffer through it and hope to find some happiness in his various lives. The sound of shedding skin crackled loudly in his ear as he got up to look over his new body, he was a girl this time, maybe nine or ten years old. She sighed, as she looked over her body having been both genders enough to just passively accept her new role as a female over a male. Harry coughed again watching as more smoke was expelled and the blackened skin of her body fell off to reveal pink new flesh.

She would need to find some clothes soon, then set out to find out what time, and nation she was currently occupying. She curled her knees up to her chest to rest her chin on them as her body continued to heal painfully. Harry mused that her pain tolerance had reached insane levels and absently tested her new body for magic. She was very relieved to find that she did have magic this time, which was a relief, as it would make things much easier on her. Harry remembered the first time she had been born in a body incapable of magic. It had been horrible feeling her magic and not being able to use it.

Harry had learned a lot about magic through her many lifetimes, and had made some pretty earth shattering discoveries. The most startling had to be that the pure bloods hadn't been entirely wrong in their beliefs and that had taken a long time to swallow. The fact of the matter was that some people were born with the capability of using magic, while others simply could not. This didn't mean that the ones that had a magic capable body always got magic, as Harry had discovered studying squibs. It just meant that their body could handle magic but sometimes they just didn't have any.

It was a mystery Harry had yet to solve but she was patient since she had all the time she would ever need. She giggled a bit eyes slightly widened, yes; Harry had all the time in the world to discover all of this world's secrets. Once her new body was all healed up  
Harry would need to get some clothes and go about discovering her new place in the world. This part was always exhausting, finding out the time, where she was, and all while mostly avoiding other people.

-x-

Harry waited holding her breath and wished desperately that her body could handle more magic. She had already reached her limit today and Harry didn't fancy the idea of passing out in this dirty alley. The slow clacking of hard shoes on stone got closer, and her ability to hold her breath was quickly running out. It was December 1935, Harry wasn't entirely sure of the date but she did know it was getting close to Christmas.

The weather was freezing, snow was gray slush on the ground and she was starving. Harry had known it wasn't a good idea to come into London, but her magic could only do so much to keep her from freezing to death. She had needed warmer clothes, a small town wouldn't have been an option since her presence would be noticed and London had been her most viable option. It was just her rotten luck that she had been spotted by a bobby in the process of grabbing some food after she had gotten the clothes. He had given chase and her smaller half-starved body wasn't up to the task of outrunning him.

So she had done the Slytherin thing and hid while she had the chance, but this guy was persistent and she needed to breathe. Sucking in air was her undoing in the quite alley and Harry felt a sense of doom when a big rough hand grabbed her shoulders. Harry was only glad that she had the foresight to keep her red hair short, her clothes distinctly masculine and her original name. The police officer was more inclined to just drop her off at an orphanage then deal with the paperwork writing up reports on her thieving.

The fact that he had mistaken her for a boy helped because Harry shuddered to think about his treatment had the bobby known her to be a girl. He was already unnecessarily rough, impatient, and nasty as it was, Harry had lived as a girl enough times to know the dangers of being one. As a pretend boy she had protection, as a girl she was open to a whole new level of horrifying assaults as those willing to do those sorts of things to _boys_ were fewer. Though, that threat was still there even as a boy just less likely.

However, Harry had fully planned on escaping before ever seeing the inside of the orphanage but that all changed when he had dragged her up to the gates of Wool's Orphanage. It seemed so distant now, after all her other horrible suffering filled lives, to think about her very first remembered one as Harry Potter. That life might have been full of strife, full of battles to the death and overbearing manipulators. Her first life might have been very far from perfect but it had been the happiest one there at the end.

The only thing dark had been her early years of Voldemort and the aftermath of their war. She had spent enough time forcing herself to remember that life as something to cling onto that Harry was sure that she would never forget it. Had she come across this orphanage sooner, come across the one that lied within its walls before her other more harsh lives her reaction might have been different. Harry would like to think she would have been angry, vengeful even and would have killed the child that would become Voldemort.

Harry would like to think that but when she thought of Tom Riddle now it was only fondly. Voldemort might have been a source of misery but Harry had suffered enough by the hands of supposedly _normal_ people to get a better understanding on how one became so lost. Harry couldn't make herself think of a child as anything but a victim of a horrible situation that had only grown more lost over countless years of suffering.

Perhaps it was the faint saving people thing stirring up inside of her after all these years of deadened emotion or something. But the thought of reaching out to Tom Riddle, to someone connected to her only happy past (or future) life, was infinitely appealing. So she let the bobby take her in, let Mrs. Cole think she was a rough street rat boy that needed a place to stay and let it all go by without protest. Harry knew what she was doing was foolish, dangerous, and entirely deluded. She knew all that but she couldn't help herself anyway.

Mrs. Cole was a just as she vaguely recalled from Dumbledore's memories, just as severe and just as cold. Mrs. Cole immediately dragged her to the bathrooms and left her there, telling her to scrub thoroughly before leaving to get her the orphanage uniform. Harry was grateful since she didn't really want to explain why she needed to be left to her own devices in the bathroom. She didn't want anyone to know she was a girl yet and preferred it this way.

When Mrs. Cole came back she left her clothes on the floor with a towel and then said she would wait outside for precisely one minute before reentering. Harry was startled to see her come inside with a pair of sharp looking scissors and she couldn't help feeling nervous, as she got closer. Of course Harry knew her hair wasn't exactly pretty looking since she had cut it very roughly herself leaving her hair with uneven choppy mess that fell just short of her shoulders.

Mrs. Cole wasn't having that; she evened out the lines but had no patience to style it into something more fashionable. It came out somewhat girly looking as her hair came to her chin line with sweeping bangs but Harry figured her boy clothes and demeanor would cover for that. Mrs. Cole told her to find a room with the other boys, gave her a spare uniform, and informed Harry what was expected of her. She was to attend school with the other children at St. Mary's, they all attended church on Sunday (no exceptions), chores would be assigned to her each day and her free time was her own. As long as Harry caused no trouble for Mrs. Cole, there would be no beatings but punishments here were very harsh if she felt Harry deserved it.

Harry was starting to have second thoughts about this entire situation; being stuck in a building full of people that could potentially make her life even more hellish was not appealing. There was once a time when she wouldn't have hesitated, when she would have simply marched in there on some scheme to save the future from dealing with a Lord Voldemort. However, that time had long since past and Harry was long since over making defeating Voldemort her obsession in life.

Harry had once thought of time as solid, as always moving onward in one direction with a set path for all the players but she knew better now. Time was more like the wind, changeable and infinite. Time happened all at once and truthfully 'time' was a human concept. Humans made 'time' exist by giving a set of rules to natural occurrences. Harry knew better now than to think anything of what she thought she knew was true.

Mrs. Cole left her by the stairs to go back to her office and her glass of sherry. It was only after she had gone that Harry realized that the cold old woman hadn't even asked for her name. It seemed she hadn't been the only person who thought she would leave given her first chance. However, there was someone here Harry wanted to see…not to change…not to mould…not even to interact with…but just see. Tom Riddle knew nothing of Harry Potter, he was just a child left abandoned in this orphanage, but he was something Harry wanted very badly to see.

It would be like seeing something from her past…or her future. It was something that would prove to her that she had once been more than a half starved girl struggling to stay alive. Once she had been a boy named Harry Potter whose life had been full of purpose, once she had friends and family. Once upon a time her life had been more than an endless haze of suffering.

So with her arms full of her stolen clothing Harry walked down the stair of the orphanage heading towards the sound of children voices. In her pocket was a knife she had nicked, Harry put her hand on it to reassure herself as she got closer to the voices. The knife was her last line of defense, it was something she could use to protect herself or end her suffering. It had been a hard lesson to learn…having something with her _always_ that could serve as a weapon.

The children were playing in a largely empty room and spilling out the door to the back yard. Boys and girls all jumbled together separated by age along with other things. Harry stood in the shadow of the doorway where no one would notice her so she could watch them and get her bearings. The older children didn't join in the with the younger children's chaotic play preferring to settle around the few scant board games and books.

There was one younger child sitting in the corner away from the older children and the younger energetic ones…a child Harry recognized even if he was younger than she had ever seen him. He had the same elegantly curled black hair, the same deeply dark blue eyes that were almost black and the same aristocratically handsome face. Tom Riddle was almost nine, if Harry remembered right, but he didn't behave like any eight nearly nine year old Harry had ever seen.

Tom Riddle just sat, book open in his lap, back to the wall in his shadowed corner and ignored all the activity around him. He didn't even look like he was annoyed with all the noise while he was reading…he looked blank. His face showed nothing, not even anger or disgust at the normal children around him. Harry wasn't sure what she had been expecting, Voldemort mad cackling maybe as he tortured a herd of children, but she was beginning to realize she knew nothing of Tom Riddle.

Oh, she knew some basic facts that probably Tom Riddle didn't even know about himself yet. Harry knew Tom's mother was Merope Gaunt, his father was Tom Riddle Sr., and that his parents' relationship had not been…anything in the loosest sense of the term. Merope had drugged Tom Sr. with a love potion…that certainly didn't make a relationship. Harry knew Tom's past, knew his future should everything happen as it had before, but she didn't know Tom Riddle.

Dumbledore had said Tom had been brilliant, a true genius, and so charming he could talk a poor man out of his last dime. However, Harry didn't know Tom Riddle…not truly…and she very much wanted to know him. He was the flame and she was the moth. Harry knew nothing good could come from interacting with the future murderer of her parents…but she was far from caring. She had been alone so long that anything from her last happy life was too much for her to resist…especially when it was put so temptingly before her.

So Harry threw caution to the wind and walked discreetly into the room. The children paid her no mind too caught up in play to notice her, and the ones that did dismissed her as soon as she walked past them. She was just another orphan in a sea of orphans…nothing that mattered. Harry made it to his corner, grabbed the last free book and sat down a few feet from him. She put her clothes in her lap, one hand was on her knife and the other opened the book.

She didn't have as easy of a time ignoring all the others in the room as carelessly as Tom did. Harry had suffered at the hands of mobs too often to ever feel comfortable in the presence of so many people. She was tense; eyes darted around the room looking for predators and brought out her knife hiding it in the folds of her clothes. The act of freeing her weapon allowed her to relax enough to actually look at the book in her hand because now her weapon was easier to use than if it had remained in her pocket.

The book was a collection a fairy tales, well worn and uninteresting. After the disaster of her life Harry found she had little patience for the imagined adventures of others. None of these tales talked about nights spent huddled in the cold with a stomach complaining loudly for food. They did not talk about the monster humans could become instead they wrote of evil obviously shown in flesh. Evil, Harry found, did not announce its presence so freely. No true evil hid behind kind smiles and gentle faces. True evil you never saw until it had you in its grasp and you were screaming for you end.

Disgusted Harry tossed the book from her and huddled into her pile of clothes to stroke the knife in her hands. Then she felt the weight of eyes upon her and Harry tensed searching for the owner. Deep blue eyes caught her own, eyes that reminded her of deep still water, and she almost flinched in surprise. Tom Riddle was staring at her like she was the most interesting thing in the world. It was only then that Harry realized she had been leaking wild magic as her body protested painfully.

She had used too much magic today and her body was letting her know. Harry wondered if Tom Riddle could sense it…her magic…because she had certainly not done anything else to call his attention. Tom Riddle stared at her intensely and Harry stared right back without blinking. She felt just the faintest brushes on her mind and instead of blacking it out Harry reached out with her own power. Mind magic was a tricky thing, it didn't use much magic though and thankfully she had enough in her for this.

When their thoughts touched it was the oddest sensation Harry had ever felt…like she was seeing the world for the first time. It was new and exciting and felt _so good_. There was no real communication between them yet, just a blank sense of being, and then Harry said _hi_ the childish voice of her present body echoed across their fragile link. Tom Riddle looked startled, his gaze went to her mouth and then to her eyes once more as if to confirm she hadn't _spoken_ the word. Tentatively a small boyish voice, slightly deeper than her own, whispered _hi_ across her thoughts. Harry smiled.

**~Tom~**

He felt her the moment she came into the room, how could he not? She was a bright flame that filled up the previously frigidly cold room. Never had Tom felt anyone like him before, and it made him tense keeping his eyes firmly on the book in his lap. But he tracked her movements from the corner of his eye, watched her slink closer to him with anticipation…did she feel him too? She sat beside him and Tom noticed that she was dressed as a boy with some small curiosity.

Why was she dressed like a boy? As Tom studied her, he took in the hastily cut hair, the boy clothes that she was wearing along with the ones in her lap and the tense line of her jaw. If he had been a normal boy he would have mistaken her for a boy…but he was not normal he was _special_. Tom knew that she was a girl instinctively because that bright wild fire of power was distinctly feminine. Tom watched from the corner of his eye as she tensed her body as if she expected to be attacked any moment.

The book in her hand was forgotten as her eyes shifted looking for some invisible threat and she shifted something with her other hand. Whatever she had in her other hand allowed her relax enough to glance at the book in her hands. A story book he had read many times searching for some clue into the power he had…a story book that had proven as useless as the stories themselves. The girl thought so too and she tossed it from her carelessly. Something must have disturbed her because Tom felt her power roar to life to crackle around her threateningly.

Tom gave up the pretense of trying to read to watch her more openly. The girl had deep red hair like the dark red roses that bloomed in the church yard during summer. Her eyes were glowing green, a shade he had never seen before but found quite…enchanting. Her power crackled around her like a flame, whirling around her, dancing with her hair and Tom felt the warmth of it as if he was sitting by a fire that snapped in the fireplace.

Then her eyes looked up and caught his own. Green clashed with deep blue, his power had always felt like a deep well of water ready to rise to his call at a moment's notice. Fire and water. Tom wanted to know if she felt him as he felt her so he used his power to see inside her head like he had been practicing all year. At first there was nothing, like he was trying to grasp smoke, and then it happened. A soft touch, it wove itself into his power softly like the barest brush of fingertips against bare skin.

He responded to the touch with one of his own and soon their powers were dancing together…water dosing flame…fire boiling water…it was like nothing he had ever felt before. The sound of everything in the dull normal world fell away and it was just them…dancing together in their joined minds. It felt good…so good…like how Tom had imagined a hug would feel before he had given up on wanting such things for the weakness it was…. Yet this was something he wanted to do forever, it felt so good, and he didn't want it to ever end despite how weak that must make him.

Then it came like a soft chiming bell across his mind, a small _hi_, a feminine and childish voice. It sounded so clear…so close…so real…that Tom's eyes glanced at her mouth to make sure she had not spoken the word. No, the word had come from her mind…from that place were their powers danced together in a glorious link. He had never spoken with someone with just his mind before, never had used his power in such a way before and it sent a thrill through him. _Hi_, he said unsure if he could do it as easily as she had.

He needn't have worried, he was special, and he had done it as easily as he had all the rest. _My name is Harry_, her voiced chimed across his thoughts. _Tom_, he replied. Tom wondered then if it was always the fate of such gloriously unique creatures such as them to be cursed with such common names. However, there was no point in dwelling on such things…Harry was waiting. _Why are you here_, Tom asked imagining for a moment that she had come for him no matter how absurd the notion was.

_Bobby caught me stealing_, Harry replied to Tom's question. _Stealing what_? Tom asked curious to know what she had stolen. _Food_ she answered simply. _Why_ Tom asked. _Because I was hungry_, she replied. Tom squashed down on his irritation. _Didn't they feed you at your last orphanage_, he asked instead. _This is the first orphanage I've been in; _she said igniting his curiosity higher. _Did your parents abandon you_, Tom asked.

_I don't know,_ she said. _How do you not know_, Tom asked. _I woke up in a burnt down building a few months ago I don't remember anything from before that_, she said simply. Tom felt her shrug and let the matter drop. _Which room are you in_, he asked instead eager to keep talking like this. _Whatever room has space available with the boys, Mrs. Cole said to sort myself out,_ she told him. The thought of this girl around any of the other boy made him irrationally angry.

Tom didn't want to share her with them, with anyone; she was the first person he had ever met that was like him. He kept his dark anger at the thought of her talking to anyone else to himself instead he said _I have my own room…if you want to stay with me_. It was true he had been given his own room after the incident with the rabbit since the other children were too afraid to sleep near him. Not that he would tell Harry that, because he actually wanted her near him unlike those other normal boring children. Harry looked at him oddly, like she couldn't believe he had offered to share with her and he almost rescinded the offer on irritation alone.

Before he could she said, _alright_, through their strange link and Tom forgot all about being angry in his excitement. He wondered what she could do; did animals bend to her will, could she summon books to her through the air, could she talk to snakes too? _What else can you do_ he asked eager to see just how similar they were. _Depends on what I want to happen_ she answered, _I flew once._ Tom blinked at the admission, suddenly jealous, **he** had never flown before. As if she sensed his envy Harry smiled at him coyly, _I can teach you if you want_, she said.

_Can you control animals?_ He asked not bothering to acknowledge her offer. Harry tilted her head at him, _no I've never done that, shame it would have been dead useful_, she said. Tom bit back the urge to give her a smug smirk, he could do things she couldn't do yet, and that meant they had a lot to offer each other. _I'll teach you in exchange for teaching me to fly_, Tom said simply. _Ok, _Harry said smiling at him freely.

Tom had a feeling she was about to say more when they were interrupted by Dennis Bishop and Amy Benson. The distraction of Dennis' voice as he began talking to Harry broke the fragile connection between them and Tom didn't like the feeling of it breaking. Now he felt cold and alone again the warmth of Harry's thoughts/power entwined with his own pulled from him. He sneered and glared at the boy threateningly. Harry didn't even acknowledge that Dennis was talking to her and her eyes never strayed from Tom's face making him feel very smug.

"Do you want to see my room?" Tom asked aloud for the first time. "Sure," Harry said softly as she followed him out of the room leaving Dennis and Amy gaping at their backs. Tom led her up the stairs to the third floor that was just below the attic. His room was at the very end of the hall away from all the other children… just as he liked it. Inside there was a bed, a bookcase with a few precious books from the library, a wardrobe with all his things and a desk. It was very bare, but it was his…well theirs now.

They would have to share the bed until another could be brought in but that was alright. Tom had shared beds before when he had been much younger, he hadn't liked it much but he had a feeling that Harry wouldn't be as bad to sleep next to as the other children had been. For one she was potty trained at least and so he wouldn't have to suffer that indignity again. "We can share the bed until they can bring in another one," Tom said simply. Harry just nodded in response with an odd small smile on her lips. 


	2. Remains of life

**Chapter 2: Remains of a life**

"**I give you this to take with you:****  
****Nothing remains as it was. If you know this, you can****  
****begin again, with pure joy in the uprooting."**

**-Judith Minty**

**~Harry~ **

As Harry looked around the room she told herself that tonight she would run off and never come back to this place. That she would never come back to Wool's Orphanage, come back to look at Tom Riddle, or this room again. But somehow Harry knew that it was a lie…she could no more leave this room than she could escape this curse. The thought of sharing a bed with Tom Riddle was more than a little odd but Harry accepted it easily enough.

This boy was a child, he had yet to do the damage he was destined for to her and really he was all she had that remained of her life before this happened. Tom was staring at her again as she went around the room pretending to look at things…Harry ignored the weight of his eyes. She put her clothes at the bottom of his wardrobe over a box that Harry was sure contained Tom's stash of stolen things. Harry had long since moved past Dumbledore's notion of 'good' and 'bad.

It amused her to think of Dumbledore's high and mighty convictions now…after everything she had been through. The truth was that no matter how much Dumbledore wanted to believe there was inherit goodness in people…the fact of the matter was that was just not true. Too many times she had been a child drowned by a deranged parent, too many times she had been that girl they burned at the stake…and she had seen too much to believe in the good in people.

People were cruel, people were monsters in disguise, and there was no saving them from themselves. You can only save someone who _wants _to be saved after all. That's why Harry knew any overtures to changing Tom Riddle's path in life were futile and foolhardy. People never changed, and any attempts to push change on someone were bound to end badly. So Harry looked around the room, hand on her pocket where he knife laid and just reveled in being near Tom.

It was like being near her first life, being near the remains of a life she had once had, once lived, once loved, and it was more than she had in a very long time. Harry sat on the bed, it was stiff, but it was better than the ground outside. Tom watched her as she pushed off her shoes and crawled over to the side of the bed nearest to the wall. Then she patted the empty spot beside her in a wordless invitation. Harry was only a little surprised when the boy took her up on it and laid down beside her.

The bed was far from big, a small twin mattress, but they were both small enough that they could lay down on it without feeling overcrowded. Harry had wondered if there would be enough room for the both of them on the bed and now her question was answered. They stared up at the ceiling together in quiet company together. It was nicer than Harry wanted to admit to herself.

"What are we," Tom asked distractedly as their magic began to clash against each other again.

For a while Harry didn't say a word, wondering what she could tell him, and finally settled on, "Well we're magic," she said.

Tom tensed beside her for a minute before a large smile bloomed across his face, his magic sang with his excitement, "Magic," he said as if testing the word on his tongue, "I _knew _we were special."

Harry wondered if she had made a mistake coming here, because she could see that no matter how indifferent she was to changing Tom. No matter how much she _didn't care_ to change the future…Harry knew her being here would change something. They were laying there for a while before Harry felt the faintest brush of fingers against her hand. She didn't pull away or flinch at the contact, so Tom emboldened by her passive acceptance slowly took her hand into his own.

Their fingers threaded together, and even though Harry knew she was doing it…she couldn't hold back her disbelief. Harry was _holding hands with __**Tom Riddle**_ the future Dark Lord…it was…surprisingly nice. "How old are you?" Tom asked eye still firmly on the ceiling.

"I don't know," Harry said honestly.

"When were you born?" he asked.

"Don't remember, what about you?" she said hoping to steer the conversation away from her non-existent memories of her body's life before death.

"I'll be nine in ten days," Tom said simply. "What _do_ you remember," Tom asked curiously.

"Nothing, I woke up in a burnt down house on the other side of London," she said sighing, "I don't even know my name…I just picked Harry cause I liked it." She said.

Harry felt Tom turn and stare at her in disbelief, "You _chose_ the name Harry?" he said aghast, "Is it at least short for something?" he asked as if he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Nope, just Harry, but I suppose if it bothers you so much you can make it short for something," Harry said smile on her lips amused that something as simple as a name disturbed the future Dark Lord so much. Though she supposed Tom Riddle did have a thing about names…he _would_ name himself Lord Voldemort.

Tom leaned back onto the bed in silent contemplation, "Have you picked a last name yet?" he asked.

"Nope," Harry said simply because she honestly thought claiming to be a Potter would not go over well in the future.

"Well then I'll just have to give you one," Tom said, "Vedette," he murmured.

"What?" Harry said.

"Vedette, that's your new last name," Tom said seriously, "It means Star." He added as if an afterthought.

"And my first name?" Harry asked.

"If you want Harry, then that's your problem," Tom said. Harry wondered why he hadn't gifted her with a first name too but then she figured he couldn't figure out how to make Harry short for something more unique. That was fine, it was odd enough being given a name but her once sworn enemy.

**~Tom~**

He couldn't take his eyes away from her face, tracing the high cheekbones, the lines of her pouty mouth, the curve of her ear, the shape of her eyes, and Tom didn't really care. Her eyes were a shade of green he had never seen before, dark but at the same time they almost glowed with bright intensity. Tom's eyes caught the gleam of her hair and resisted the urge to run his fingers through it to feel its softness.

Tom hated touching, being touched or touching other people was both uncomfortable and strange for him. Unlike a lot of children here, abandoned by their parents through death or cheapness Tom had always been at the orphanage. Where the other children looked at the road leading up to the gates of the orphanage with longing eyes…waiting for their parents or a relative to come for them…Tom knew better.

The parents that left their children here because they couldn't afford to feed them, or couldn't handle taking care of them…never came back. Some foolish ones always held out hope that the ones that abandoned them would come back, repeating their parents' empty promises to do so in their empty heads. Tom had watched them all come and go, some ran away, some were adopted…some killed themselves. Yet here he remained, forgotten and scorned.

Not that he cared anymore. He had long since gotten past crying, tears never did anything and would only bring a hard smack it he made too much nose. Tom had never been hugged, never been coddled like the other children who came here later in their lives. He was lucky; he didn't have memories of soft caresses and gentle care haunting him like the other children. Tom didn't want to be touched now anyway, never having been touched without the gravest of reasons because the adults here were frightened of him.

His eyes followed the lines of his hand as it entwined with Harry's and realized he didn't mind touching her. Tom had taken her hand because the closer he was to her the more he felt the warmth of her _magic_ brushing against his own. Touching Harry was enjoyable, not that Tom would ever let Harry find out that. They laid there in silence and Tom watched as her eyes grew heavy while her breathing slowed.

Soon Tom realized he was watching her sleep and realized they had missed dinner. Tom was used to missing meals though, he was always hungry anyways and from the hollows of Harry's cheeks Tom knew Harry was used to going hungry too. Curious Tom ran a gentle hand over her cheekbone, and finally feeling her hair as soft as he had thought it would be. The dark red of her hair stood in sharp contrast against his pale skin and reminded Tom of the blood from Billy Stubb's rabbit in the low light of the moon through their window.

Tom decided Harry reminded him of fire and roses…both were things he had been drawn to before but never as intensely as he had been drawn to her. Gently he reached into her pocket and pulled out the thing Harry had been touching constantly today…it was a pocket knife. Tom opened it and tested the sharpness of the blade against his fingertip. Blood blossomed up easily and Tom smiled wiping the blade off on the sheet before slipping it back into Harry's pocket.

He didn't want to be tempted by the blade now, not with Harry laying there so vulnerable and tempting. Tom forced the knife's existence from his mind as he stared at Harry's face. She was his now, forever, he would never let her leave him…he wouldn't allow it. Harry had let her name her and so by all rights she belonged to him now. He petted her hair and delighted when she moved towards his hand in her sleep. Yes, Harry was his now and no one else was ever allowed to touch her.

The hand holding her hand tightened as the possessive thoughts ran through his mind and Tom scowled. Tom knew better than to ever allow Harry to escape him now that he had her. People never stayed, not unless you made them, parents left their children, couples parted, but Tom wouldn't _**ever**_ allow Harry to leave him. She was his now, _forever_, and Tom didn't care if he had to tie her up and lock her in a room…she wasn't allowed to leave him alone again. Not ever again.

Now that he felt this warmth, now that he felt what it was to have her, well…there was no going back to that bleak colorless cold loneliness. He wouldn't allow Harry to take it away now that he has had a taste of it. The thought of the dead parents that had left their children behind without a thought dying and leaving them alone chilled Tom. Death had never been a pleasant thought for him, if what the preacher said was anything to go by…death was even more unpleasant than life.

Harry could be taken by death, or he could…because in spite of their power everything died. Then Tom remembered what Harry had said, _magic_, they were _magic_. Magic didn't follow normal rules, magic allowed impossible things happen all the time and maybe that was the answer. If magic could make animals obey, if magic could hurt people without a trace, perhaps magic could grant immortality too. Tom turned hungry eyes onto Harry's face, hand reaching out to force her to face him and he smiled.

There had to be a way, there must be some spell, some secret hidden away out there that would give Tom what he wanted the most. He would discover a way to escape death, and then he would take death away from Harry too. Then she would never be able to escape him, because he would take death away from her so she couldn't use it to run away from him like his mother had. He ran a gentle finger over her bottom lip, and he would find a way for them to stay young too.

His lip curled in disgust as he thought about the stooped wrinkled figures of old people and he refused to ever be brought low by that. They would be young and live forever…together. Tom allowed his eyes to close, hand cupping Harry's face as he curled over her possessively and knew…one day he would be free from this place. One day, he would walk away from Wool's orphanage with Harry at his side and he would _never_ look back.

**~Harry~**

Harry fiddled with the very ragged looking violin in her hands, it was tattered, the wood was splitting, there were no strings on it and there was no bow in sight. It would have to do. She ignored the looks Tom was giving her for have gone 'dumpster diving' for it after she had seen the music shop owner toss it. Luckily this happened after they had already attended morning service at St. Mary's otherwise she would be looking at a caning for her appearance.

It had been two weeks since she had been captured by the bobby and taken to Wool's. Tom's birthday was tomorrow but Harry didn't think that the boy expected her to get him anything. She couldn't even had she wanted to since Harry was experiencing a familiar lack of funds at the moment. Hence the beat up looking thing that was in her hands as they trailed behind the other orphans on their way back to Wool's.

In one of her early lives she had 'woken up' in the body of a master violinist who had just committed suicide…apparently when you had that much talent you tended to get overwhelmed. Luckily no one had witnessed the man's death since he had been the estranged child of a wealthy couple and tended to go off to his cabin for weeks on end with no contact. It had left her with a bit of a problem, waking up in the body of someone with that much talent that was relatively well known for said talent.

It made taking over his abandoned life very difficult because at the time she had no experience with any sort of musical instruments. That had left her with two options, kill herself or educate herself. Since Harry was never too keen on killing herself even after all this time she had chosen to educate herself. There had been a whole legion of challenges taking on that task and the first had been of course being trapped in _a muggle body_ unable to use magic to help her along.

The only thing that had saved her had been the body's pervious occupant's tendency to go off into seclusion for months or years at a time to 'practice'. Harry had ended up taking five years to get herself to a level where she could play to the previous person's level and could come out of hiding. Of course she had been assassinated by a fanatical fan two years after her reemergence into the public while she had been on tour with an orchestra.

It was in her next life, waking up as a bum who had drank himself to death, that Harry had discovered the most amazing thing. All those years she had dedicated to nothing but learning the violin had not been lost after she had entered a new body. See the thing about playing the violin is that it takes _years perhaps decades_ to master not only because it was a sensitive instrument…but it took that long for your body to learn how to play it.

There were stances, there were special ways you had to hold the bow, and not to mention learning how to make more than frightful screeches took time. Harry had discovered some pretty interesting things about the mind over her many lives and one of which was that the term 'muscle memory' wasn't entirely accurate. See Harry had years and years dedicated to studying the violin, she knew the violin now as an intimate friend. That knowledge had _never_ been lost since she had obtained it.

It didn't matter if her new body had never even touched a violin before the moment it was in her hands Harry knew she could play it like a master. There were some things that were a pain to do over and over again…like obtaining calluses on her fingertips so she could play for longer than an hour. However, Harry was proud to say that she now had gotten to the level where she was comfortable enough to say she played the violin beautifully.

In more than one life when she had gotten desperate enough to get near people she had always managed to make a pretty good living off playing a violin…whether on a street corner or in a concert hall. The main difficulty was _getting_ a violin so she could play and the lives she woke in a body without magic certainly made that almost impossible. This life she had magic though, so while this pathetic excuse for a violin would have been unusable…now it was salvageable.

Tom ever present at her side nudged her impatiently and captured her hand as soon as she relinquished her hold on the violin long enough for him to act. Harry let him do as he pleased, she could hold the violin with one hand anyway and it was sort of funny that Tom was always so eager to hold her hand. Harry turned to stare at him letting Tom lead her so she didn't have to pay attention to anything else. Tom Riddle was a mystery and every day Harry told herself she was being very stupid by staying with him.

His dark hair curled away from his face elegantly, his eyes a deep dark blue stared ahead but every so often darted over to glance at her face. Tom was so pale that sometimes Harry wondered if a vampire would mistake him for one of their own. Tom was handsome in a very high brow sort of way. His features were not ones you often say in Tom's lowly circumstances…usually such boys were the sons of wealthy aristocracy and would not fall so far.

Harry supposed Tom was technically the son of an aristocrat but Tom didn't know that yet. Since their first meeting Tom had not let her out of his sight, he had even tried to follow her into the toilet a few times before Harry had put her foot down and he had settled for waiting outside the door. Tom didn't even let her take baths on her own, though Harry supposed it didn't matter since Tom knew she was a girl pretending to be a boy anyway.

Though Harry did suppose it was weird that she was so okay with him seeing her naked but Harry was old enough that modesty sort of didn't matter much to her anymore. Harry just couldn't quite figure out _why_ Tom wouldn't leave her alone. It had been picked up by the other kids pretty quickly and they had taken to calling them poofs and the like. Tom didn't seem very concerned about being mistaken for a homosexual all things considered.

Harry was actually more concerned about that then Tom's obsessive behavior since she had been the 'gay man' enough to know it could end bloody. People, especially in this time period didn't tolerate homosexuality and very often the 'poof' was killed by a gang of unruly men. Harry decided that she would reveal her true gender if it looked like they were going to be killed but it would be a last resort. She very much liked the freedom being a boy offered her and the protection it gave her as well.

Tom didn't seem to care what the others at the orphanage thought about them and Harry had to admit he handled them well enough to warrant indifference. Harry was beginning to see things Dumbledore had never cared to learn or show her about Tom Riddle. The first being that Tom never struck first…he was too coldly calculating for that. Tom did the things he did usually in _retaliation_ as opposed to doing it on a whim.

Oh, Harry was sure he enjoyed tripping a loud mouth bully down the stairs breaking both the boy's legs...but he didn't do it just because he _could_. Tom tripped him for stealing food from the two of them while the adults in charge watched and did nothing. So Tom tripped him when there would be no witnesses and reveled in the boy's pain. It certainly wasn't healthy that he enjoyed inflicting such damage on another person…but Harry couldn't bring herself to care.

Tom was what he was, a high functioning sociopath with homicidal tendencies, and Harry wasn't inclined to judge him. Tom was her first comfort that she had in a very _very __**very**_ long time and she didn't care what he did as long as he remained pleasant enough towards her. Harry certainly didn't _help_ Tom hurt people/animals but she didn't _stop _him either. Harry didn't even comment on it at all and Tom seemed to have taken that as approval. Harry didn't care enough about the issue to correct him.

Everyone died, it was a fact, the how soon and how horribly they got there was the only thing that varied. Harry was the only one who she had ever heard of with the plain inability to move on after death. Being alive for so long, having suffered some pretty horrible death, Harry felt very indifferent towards life in general. As far as she was concerned everyone in this entire world was already dead…they just didn't know it yet. So what did it matter to her if Tom decided to kill a few people…they meant nothing to her anyway.

Now if she happened to be attached to any of them…like if she lived to see Hermione or Ron in this life…then maybe she would stop Tom from killing them. Other than that, Harry didn't care one way or the other just accepting that Tom was Tom. Her attitude about it seemed to be a puzzle to Tom and he often asked her leading questions about it. Though he _never_ asked her outright…too much like admitting he didn't already understand.

**~Tom~**

Tom watched her as she worked on the thing he vaguely recognized as a violin and thought about how strange his life had become. Tom wasn't an idiot, he knew he didn't feel things the same way other people did and in fact Tom had a very hard time understanding _why _people reacted the way they did. It was part of the reason why Tom had trained himself to be able to see into the minds of others because he needed to know how he was supposed to behave so he could blend in better.

He knew how to be charming, every other adult outside of the orphanage was puddy in his hands because they were so easy to manipulate. The ones inside here though knew better than to trust his charm, and looked at him with suspicious eyes every time one of the other children were hurt. Tom _hated_ that. He was always careful and nothing could ever be traced back to him…yet still they looked at him. Tom knew it was because they had seen him when his was younger.

They remembered that he had never smiled, that he didn't laugh, that he never reacted _right_ to anything and their eyes were always cold to him. He was much better now of course, but that didn't change the fact that they suspected him. Tom knew he would never be able to fool them and didn't bother to try. Their fear of him had its benefits because it stopped most of the physical abuse at their hands. Ever since he had set that last priest on fire they no longer tired to 'exorcize the demons from him'.

That incident had its drawbacks of course, the nuns at the church now wanted to _understand_ and _save _him. As if their puny minds could ever hope to understand his intellect. Tom knew though from the various reactions over the years that his inclination to harm others as was his due wasn't exactly approved of by the normal people. He was used to one of two reactions, scorn or fear.

Tom was well versed on turning either reaction to his favor but Harry had yet to react in either way. Harry didn't look at him with the suspicious scornful eyes or the fearful eyes. Harry just looked at him like how Tom had seen a few people look at a particularly nice painting…like he was a fascinating work of art. Tom wasn't sure how to react to that, what does one do when not faced with fear or scorn? This was an entirely new situation for him and Tom didn't like that at all.

"Do you know how to play the piano?" Harry asked not looking up from her work on the violin.

Tom stifled the anger at being ignored in favor of a piece of wood and answered her, "No, unfortunately musical aptitude has never been a part of my education." Tom replied.

"Pity," Harry answered, "we'll have to start from scratch then."

Tom raised an eyebrow at her, "Was that an offer to teach me?" he asked curiously.

"Yes, I do not know the piano as well as the violin but we will have to manage," Harry said.

Tom settled down beside her on the floor, "I thought you said you don't remember anything from before." He said trying to hold back his anger at her lying to him.

"Some things you do not forget, I know how to play…I just have no idea where I learned it from," Harry answered breezily.

"Why the piano?" Tom asked wanting to keep her talking.

"Simple, I prefer the violin and when playing the piano is the best to accompany it," Harry said as Tom felt her gather up her magic in her hands.

Tom watched with greedy eyes as Harry ran her hands over the Violin and wherever she touched it became something more than a useless piece of wood. Soon, Harry was holding a beautifully crafted stringless violin that shone in the light. Tom looked at Harry hungrily; it seemed there was much they could learn from each other in regards to magic. "What's the point," Tom asked gesturing vaguely at the violin.

Harry smiled at him _finally_ turning her beautiful green eyes onto him, "Well I certainly don't want to stay here forever, nor do I wish to remain this hungry all the time, and the solution to both problems is simple. We need money. I am disinclined to work in a factory or some such thing so I will utilize a skill I can easily profit from. Playing the violin, and it's much easier to get hired for high class parties when you have a piano player to accompany you." She said.

Tom smirked at her, this was why Harry was good enough to be his companion, because she was as intelligent as he was and at using that intelligence well. Money equaled power, power meant everything because without power defined the world. Those with power used the ones without it and Tom refused to be used. "How do you propose I learn how to play a piano…it is not as if there will be another incompetent music shop owner throwing one out." Tom asked one eyebrow rose in question. He knew his expression was one that others called 'roguish' it usually went a long way in allowing him to manipulate women.

Harry smiled at him easily enough, "You let me worry about that, I do have a few more tricks up my sleeve you know," she said winking. Tom resolved to learn how to make his face do that exact expression, it was friendly and open. If he could master that then it would be sure to come in handy later. Tom smiled at her as she went back to looking over her new violin. His life was getting better and better.

**A.N.: there we are! Lol A little shorter than my last chapter but this was a good place to end. Next chapter we will have a little bit of a time skip! Soon Dumbledore will make his appearance and I cannot wait to write it! XD *cackles evilly* lol please read and review! Let me know how I am doing! ^_^ thanks to all my wonderful reviewers to my first chapter! You guys really motivated me to update sooner! On a side note I am in the middle of working on a children's book of my own! Illustrated and wrote it all by myself! Super excited to get it done and work on getting it published! Wish me luck! ^_^**


	3. Twilight

**Chapter 3: Twilight**

"**My sun sets to rise again."****  
****―****Robert Browning**

**~Harry~**

Harry sat still and listened to the soothing sound of the _snip, snip, snip_ of the scissors. Her eyes looked about their room taking in the small but significant changes that have accumulated over the year. There was a thick quilt on the bed that was of higher quality than was normally seen at Wool's orphanage. On the bookshelf there was a small collection of books that was separate from the ones that needed to be returned to the library.

There on the desk was a collection of ivories from a piano, they looked relatively useless but Harry had enchanted the keys to ring out the sound that they would have if they were still a part of a grand piano. That was how Tom had learned the piano; he was getting closer to mastering it every day. In the corner was a well worn case that held her violin, bought second hand but it was of a higher quality than what she could have bought new.

Harry's eyes saw the side of the wardrobe out of the corner of her eye and knew that if she would look inside she would see a small but high quality collection of clothes. Tucked under the bed were a few sets of very nice dress shoes they took care of and shined before any scheduled party. They were becoming quite the damned pair among the middle class to the elite when it came to needing music at their little 'get togethers'.

It was very good that they were getting more jobs but they were a long way from supporting themselves using their musical talent. Harry had pried loose some floor boards under their bed to create a nice little pocket where they stashed all the money they could spare. What wasn't spent on food was very carefully budgeted. There were some things they couldn't avoid spending their hard earned money on, newer higher quality clothes was one of the more voracious eaters of their funds.

They couldn't avoid buying those clothes because they couldn't exactly show up to the parties they were booked for wearing their orphanage uniforms. The better they dressed, the more they could earn by paying at higher class parties, and so it was a vicious cycle. The main problem was that Tom grew like a weed with their more steady diet and he quickly outgrew his clothes. So that left Harry with a higher selection of clothes then Tom because she could wear what he couldn't fit in anymore.

The money they had saved was steadily growing though, and that gave them both hope that soon they would have enough to leave Wool's behind. The greatest thing about the 1930s Harry thought was also probably the worst thing which was the severe lack of care when it came to children. Children could work without anyone saying anything about it, sure they had made laws prohibiting children younger than thirteen from working but there were plenty of places hiring ten to eleven year olds.

What this meant was there was a small working force of children doing very cheap labor causing the general view of children to be 'older' younger. So if you looked carefully enough there were places that wouldn't bat an eye at renting out to children if they had enough to pay on time every month. It was their best hope of getting out of Wool's without being of age or having a guardian to sign the leases for them.

They were still a long ways off from having enough to support themselves for any long period of time though so they needed to work more to earn more. In order to work more they had to look as handsome as they could so that the elite wanted to hire them over their competitors. Tom gave Harry frequent hair cuts because her hair grew like a weed and if it was too long it got in the way of her violin playing. Tom had gotten surprisingly good at cutting her hair since he had taken over the task.

Her hair now usually fell around her ears in a willowy bob with bangs that framed her face and eyes. Tom did one last _snip_ before he nudged her up from her chair so they could clean up the red locks from the floor. Harry pretended not to notice when Tom tied a lock of her hair together and taped it to the inside of his new pocket watch. They both had seen the need for them to get pocket watches so that they could be on time for their various bookings.

It was also the reason Harry had gotten a small notebook planner and Tom had gotten a diary. Though Tom insisted on calling his diary a 'journal' but Harry recognized the leather diary from her first life. It made her wonder if that diary from her first life had more than just Tom's time in Hogwarts. There was no use thinking about that now because he had it and there was no changing that. Once the red hair had been gathered up Tom sat in the chair and gave her the scissors.

She ran her fingers through his hair following the familiar pattern, _snip, snip, snip_ and Harry still marveled at the trust Tom was giving her. Though she doubted Tom saw letting her cut his hair as a show of trust but Harry thought it was anyway. After all Harry had to trust that Tom wouldn't turn those sharp scissors on her and so Harry figured Tom had to do the same. Not that Harry had ever really desired to hurt anyone; no all Harry had ever desired was to be left alone to live a nice comfortably normal life.

There was probably a lot of therapy potential in that thought, given she had spent a good chuck of her first childhood living under the Dursley's thumb and the Dursleys' idolized 'normal'. Harry had begun to wonder if her desire to be 'just Harry' and perfectly average in every way had come from that mindset that had been pressed down on her. That had been a heavy thought that haunted her every time she thought about her first life as 'Harry Potter' and all her mistakes.

As she looked at Tom and remembered her first life Harry thought she could sympathize a bit of what he must be going through. Harry had grown up that first time so emotionally repressed that in all honesty she didn't really understand people's emotions very well. Oh, she had been very good at mimicking the emotions she had thought others had wanted to see…but she had never truly understood them. Harry guessed that was what happened when you punished a child for laughing, crying, or expressing any emotion at all.

When she had gotten to the wizarding world that first time Harry had been so desperate to fit in she had faked a lot of emotion doing things as she had thought they had wanted to see. The anger she had felt had been real, but she had never been great at expressing it truly. Love was also a thing she had yet to truly understand, yes, in her first life she had married Ginny Weasley but she had never really _loved_ her. Harry had honestly only married her to be an 'official' Weasley and so he could have the family he had always wanted.

She knew that Ginny had taken to straying in their later years, after the children had grown and Harry had never blamed her. Harry couldn't give Ginny the love she had needed and so she sought it elsewhere. Harry didn't think she was a sociopath; she never really had any desire to hurt/ kill anything but at the same time she knew her disconnect from her emotions wasn't 'normal'. It was part of the reason Harry thought she was indifferent to being around Tom Riddle.

That and of course the fact that Harry always expected to die again very soon so nothing really mattered then, right? What difference could she make? As she worked her eyes caught the sight of their bed, they never did get another bed in here and Harry supposed it was for the best…the room was small enough without adding another bed. Once she was done with Tom's hair they cleaned up and got dressed to get ready for their latest job.

They both put on matching suits, black jackets, black pants, pearly white long sleeved shirts, dark green vest, matching dark green bowties, and shiny black formal shoes. They put their shined pocket watches in their jacket pockets and attached their chains to the button on their vests. Tom glanced over her and she glanced over him checking that they both looked as good as they could. Harry picked up her violin in its case and they made their way outside.

**~Tom~**

They made it to the party relatively unruffled and Tom saw the grand piano with some satisfaction. Harry stepped up beside him as he sat down on the bench and waited for him to be ready before they began to play. Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, Tchaikovsky, Chopin, Wagner, Debussy, Strauss, and Stravinsky, they all wanted them to play the same things. Tom thought it was a bit boring actually; there was never any variety when it came to playing at these functions.

Tom listened to Harry play beautifully with half an ear as he listened to the various verbal battles as they took place. That was the only redeeming quality about these tedious party was listening to the battles of words as they played out before him. None of these high brow buffoons paid the two of them any attention so they heard the most interesting things about people. Tom wasn't very interested in which wife was having an affair with which husband or some such thing. However, Tom saw the use of listening to such conversations anyway.

The information, no matter how wearisomely low, could have its uses. For instances if Harry or Tom were ever in need to get out of police custody he need only to mention Lucy Hart to be passed up the chain. The Chief Superintendent was having an affair with her and his wife was ignorant of it at this time. His wife was the one with all the money and her connections with the aristocracy had given him his position. So even pointless gossip had its uses, and seemingly private conversations weren't so private.

These people always seemed to forget that they weren't alone, ignoring the two of them even as they whispered to each other near them. That was fine, one day all these people would kneel at his feet and they would know their place beneath his heel. For now, Tom listened, and he learned. He learned the fine art of misdirection, of double meanings, and veiled threats. He learned the verbal sparring that the elite loved to employ.

Harry was every day proving just how useful she was as his companion, and Tom was so satisfied he had her in his possession. Harry who looked at a broken piece of wood and seen a way out for them. Her violin sang sweetly as if in agreement to his thoughts. His fingers flew across the ivories with natural ease, his long fingers seemed to be perfect for this and he relished in the skill. Harry had taught him the basic, taught him all he needed to teach himself how to master this as easily had learned everything else.

Tom's eyes rested on the swaying figure of Harry, beautiful, and wondered in how all these fools could not see what was before their very eyes. Harry, beautiful Harry, whose dark red hair reminded him of a rose in bloom and whose face glowed with power. Tom watched her, eyes half lidded, as she swayed there on the stage next to him mesmerizing the horde with her violin. Harry let him cut her hair, and though sometimes Tom wished he had allowed her to grow it out…Tom preferred her hair short.

Harry with short hair was still just as beautiful as Harry would have been with long hair. However, with short hair no one but Tom realized Harry was more than she appeared. No one but Tom knew that beneath the shield of her clothes Harry was a girl masquerading as a boy. It made it so that Tom was the only one that possessed the _true_ Harry. Tom had always appreciated beautiful things but he had never been attracted to a person before but he was very attracted to Harry.

It would have mattered very little to Tom had Harry truly been a boy, because boy or girl the thing that drew Tom to Harry was _power_. Harry practically _breathed_ power and there was this odd ease about her that Tom found endlessly attractive. As the night wore on the jar they had for tips got fuller and fuller the more inebriated the guests became. They lost the cheapness that kept them from giving too much the more intoxicated they became simply paying hand over fist to hear their 'favorite song'.

If it wasn't so beneficial to him Tom was almost tempted to be disgusted by their blatant weakness. When they were done for the night Tom sorted out the money in the jar as Harry put her violin back in her case. Her fingers were red and swollen from the abuse of playing for so long without breaks so she was always disinclined to handle anything that she didn't have to afterwards. Tom collected their payment from the host of the party, Harry penciled in new appointments they had gotten in her planner and then they both stopped by the kitchens on their way out.

Their hosts were usually insistent on sending them off with a meal of some sort at the end of the night which was very convenient since they usually arrived too late at the orphanage for dinner. The meals provided were usually much more satisfying then the ones they had to choke down at Wool's so it was no grievance taking the 'charity'. Tom made sure the money was tucked into his pocket guarded by a cocoon of his magic against thieves.

Harry's violin case disappeared from view as they walked, hidden from sight and protected by her own magic. They usually got out of these parties very late so traveling back to the orphanage was usually a very wearing thing. This time their host provided a car for them to drop them off at the gates but there had been times when they had been forced to walk back. When they made it to their room their undressed carefully placing their suits back into the wardrobe and cleaning their shoes before they got themselves ready for bed.

Harry still slept with her pocket knife clutched in one hand but Tom didn't really care. Besides the temptation it brought to _use_ the knife Tom disregarded its existence. He was very satisfied to note that Harry was beginning to tuck in quite comfortably into his arms as he had grown taller once more. Tom quite enjoyed that his form was slowly beginning to dominate Harry's smaller one.

**~Harry~ *time skip***

It had been a little over two years since she had awoken in this body and about the same amount of time since she had come to be in Wool's orphanage with Tom Riddle. Harry sat on the bed in silent contemplation as she looked up at the sky, dreary and overcast she wondered if it would start snowing soon. Tom would be eleven in a week and Harry expected Dumbledore soon after…this left her with a bit of a problem.

If she was honest with herself Harry had expected to have been killed already and as that hadn't happened she was left with the fact that as soon as Dumbledore came here…she would have changed time. Unless Dumbledore hadn't shown her his true memory of what had transpired when he had come to inform one Tom Riddle of his position in Hogwarts. Harry didn't think that was what he had done so that left her with the fact that she was about to change history.

Harry supposed she _should_ be a bit concerned about that but she couldn't make herself feel it without actually being worried. The truth was that the universe was not so weak that it would be destroyed by her actions that changed the past slightly. Time was a human concept anyway. She had not introduced Tom to the wizarding world because how would she explain her knowledge? There was no way Tom would let it go as easily as he did with her apparently vast skill set that she did remember.

Her eyes turned to Tom who was writing in his diary again at the desk with a fancy fountain pen she had given him for his last birthday. It was one of a set that had come in a very nice box that had his initials on it in gold leaf. The three pens were black with gold lettering that were his initials, expensive gift, but well worth it. Harry figured this would get Tom in the hang of using that tip before they went into their schooling at Hogwarts.

Tom had gifted her with a matching set of pens on January third after telling her that was the day he had decided was her birthday. Harry supposed it was sort of sweet in a weird possessive way. How would Dumbledore react to her? Harry wondered, because she certainly wasn't going to let him do as he pleased without some words in Tom's defense. There was no use wondering about it though because until it happened there was no point.

Harry wondered if Dumbledore would have a letter for her as well, since her body had been dead it was likely that her name…had it been on Hogwarts registry would have disappeared from it. That left her with the question of how old her body was, if she would be going to Hogwarts with Tom or if she would be staying here. Harry thought of Hogwarts with some longing…in all her lives since her first one she hadn't been back to that castle.

**~Dumbledore~ **

It was cold and raining in sleeting sheets when Albus made it to London. There were a few piles of miserably brown snow in various places and Albus tugged on his velvet coat to put it back in place. The two Hogwarts letters in his pocket crinkled reminding him why he was walking with an umbrella in the middle of London as opposed to enjoying a warm cup of tea in his apartment at Hogwarts. He did so love introducing new muggle borns to the magical world it was usually quite fun.

As he stepped up to the gate of Wool's orphanage Albus couldn't helping feeling a bit sad about the sorry state it was in. His heart went out to the children that grew up in such a place and not in the loving care of relatives. He knocked on the door, and after a moment or two a girl with a scruffy apron answered it.

Albus used his best Professor smile and said, "Good afternoon. I have an appointment with a Mrs. Cole, who, I believe, is the matron here?"

The girl looked at him a bit bewildered for a moment, "Oh, um…just a mo'…MRS. COLE!" the girl bellowed over her shoulder.

Albus heard a faint shouting from deeper inside the orphanage and the girl turned back to him with an uncertain smile, "Come in, she's on 'er way."

He stepped into the hallway and looked around curious to how his two new young charges lived. The hallway was tiled black and white; it was as shabby as the exterior but painfully clean. That was surprising considering Albus was certain there was quite a herd of children living at the orphanage. A skinny harassed looking older woman came scurrying from down the hall with another aproned girl hot on her heels that was carrying various bottles and things.

"…and take the iodine upstairs to Martha, Billy Stubbs has been picking his scabs and Eric Whalley's oozing all over his sheets! –chicken pox on top of everything else!" she said to Martha over her shoulder and then her eyes fell on Albus making her stop dead in her tracks as she took him in. Her look of astonishment suggested that she couldn't quite believe who had stepped over her threshold.

Albus tugged his velvet coat again hoping it hadn't gotten terribly twisted during his appration. He was quite proud of his tailored purple velvet suit, it was very muggle, and he had even resisted the urge to have little sliver moons added. The outfit was quite mild all things considered and he hoped he hadn't forgotten to take off his hat again. "Good afternoon," Albus said smiling at the stunned woman.

Mrs. Cole gaped at him and Albus shifted uncomfortably. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I sent you a letter requesting an appointment and you very kindly invited me here today."

Mrs. Cole blinked and seemed to shake herself as she said a bit feebly, "Oh, yes. Well -well then -you'd better come into my room. Yes." She nodded as if she had solved some great problem inside her head and led him into a small room that seemed part sitting room, part office. Albus noted it was as shabby as the hallway and the furniture was old and mismatched. She gestured for Albus to sit on a rickety chair and seated herself behind a very cluttered desk.

Albus shifted as he tried to get comfortable in the chair, wishing he could just transfigure it into something more comfortable but resigned himself to it. "I am here, as I told you in my letter, to discuss Tom Riddle and Harry Vedette and make arrangements for his future." Albus said smiling hoping to put the anxious woman more at ease.

"Are you family?" she asked seemingly confused.

"No, I am a teacher," said Albus, "I have come to offer Tom and Harry a place at my school."

"What school's this, then?" Mrs. Cole asked with narrowed eyes.

"It is called Hogwarts," said Albus.

"Why are you interested in Tom and Harry?" Mrs. Cole asked as she fiddled with her hands while staring him right in the eye.

"We believe they have qualities we are looking for," Albus answered easily. It was always harder with Muggle born orphans since they weren't allowed to tell the staff about magic without breaking the statute it was considerably harder to get them to allow the children to attend.

"You mean they have won a scholarship? How can they have? They've never been entered in one," She said demandingly.

"Well, their names have been down for our school since birth—"Albus began.

"Who registered them? Their parents?" she asked demandingly.

Albus realized the Mrs. Cole was an inconveniently sharp woman and would no doubt not allow him to do as he came to…namely secure two new students. So he took out his back up, a small piece of paper that would confound her as soon as she touched it and make her more manageable. "Here," Albus said as he passed her the paper, "I think this will make everything clear."

She blinked her eyes unfocused and Albus used the opportunity to conjure up some gin. With any luck the alcohol would make the woman more willing to cooperate with him and answer some of his questions. He was very curious about the pair he would be introducing to the magical world today. It was very unique having two orphans around the same age, that weren't related, needing to be introduced to the magical world in the same orphanage.

Albus waited until she swallowed a good hearty glass of gin before he asked, "I was wondering whether you could tell me anything of Tom Riddle and Harry Vedette's history? I do believe Tom was born here in the orphanage but Harry came in later?"

"That's right," Mrs. Cole said as she helped herself to some more gin. "I remember it clear as anything because I had just started here myself. New Year's Eve and bitter cold, snowing, you know. Nasty night. And this girl, not much older than I was myself at the time, came staggering up the up the front steps. Well, she wasn't the first. We took her in, and she had her baby within the hour. And she was dead in another hour." She said unfeelingly as she took another gulp of gin.

"Did she say anything before she died?" asked Albus curious about this woman, "Anything about the boy's father, for instance?"

"Now, as it happens, she did," said Mrs. Cole, who seemed to be enjoying herself as she poured more gin and spun her story. "I remember she said to me, 'I hope he looks like his papa,' and I won't lie, she was right to hope it, because she was no beauty—and then she told me he was to be named Tom, for his father, and Marvolo, for her father—yes, I know, funny name isn't it? We wondered whether she came from a circus—and she said the boy's surname was to be Riddle. And she died soon after that without another word."

She went on talking, "Well, we named him just as she'd said, it seemed so important to the poor girl, but no Tom nor Marvolo nor any kind of Riddle ever came looking for him, nor any family at all, so he stayed in the orphanage and he's been here ever since. Harry came in about two and some years back a bobby dragged him in off the street. Poor dear hardly ever talks but he and Tom are thick as thieves." She said.

"They're funny boys," she mumbled into her drink.

"Yes," Albus said, "I thought they might be."

"I can't say about Harry since he came in later but Tom was a funny baby too. He hardly ever cried, you know. And then, when he got a little older, he was…odd." She said.

"Odd in what way?" Albus asked curious.

Mrs. Cole eyed him critically, "He's definitely got a place at your school, you say, him and Harry?"

"Definitely," Albus assured her now very curious to hear what she would reveal.

"And nothing I say can change that?" she asked seeking some confirmation.

"Nothing," Albus assured her.

"You'll be taking them away, whatever?" she said hopefully.

"Whatever," Albus said gravely.

She narrowed her eyes at him and then she said uncertainly, "He scares the other children, Tom, Harry is mostly just quietly at his side."

"You mean Tom's a bully?" asked Albus concerned.

"I think he must be," Mrs. Cole said, "but it's very hard to catch him at it. There have been incidents…nasty things…." She trailed off. "Billy Stubbs' rabbit…well…Tom said he didn't do it and I don't see how he could have done, but even so, it didn't hang itself from the rafters…did it?" she said lowly as she swallowed another mouthful of gin.

"I shouldn't think so," Albus agreed.

"But I'm jiggered if I know how he got it up there to do it. All I know is he and Billy argued the day before and then on the summer outing. We take them out, you know, once a year, to the countryside or the seaside, well Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop were never quite right afterwards, and all we ever got out of them was they'd gone into a cave with Tom Riddle. He swore they'd just gone exploring, but something happened there, I'm sure of it. And well, there have been a lot of funny things…well those things have died down since Harry has been here but…" she looked around flushed, "I don't think many people will be sorry to see the back of him. Harry might, but he is going as well so it doesn't rightly matter does it?"

"You understand, I'm sure, that we will not be keeping him permanently?" said Albus, "He will have to return here, at the very least, every summer."

"Oh, well, that's better than a whack on the nose with a rusty poker," she hiccupped, "I suppose you'd like to see 'em?" she rose.

"Very much," Albus said rising too.

Albus noted how dreary this place was as he mused over the concerning comments Mrs. Cole had made, well, if Tom was a bully he would just have to keep a firm hand during their meeting. Let him know such things wouldn't be tolerated at Hogwarts. She led him up to the third floor to the door at the very end of the hall and said, "Here we are, Tom and Harry share," she knocked on the door twice and entered.

"Tom, Harry, you've got a visitor. This is Mr. Dumberton—sorry Dumbledore. He's come to tell you both—well I'll let him do it." She said as she bustled out of the room.

Albus took in the room with some surprise. It was vastly different from what he had seen in the orphanage so far and it was a startling contrast. The room was clean and a bit bare like the rest of the orphanage but the similarities ended there. For one the sheets on the bed looked newer than the furniture, there was a well cared for musical instrument case in the corner and a small collection of books on a shelf. Both boys were also a startling contrast from the other orphans he had seen on his way to their room.

For one thing both boys were _not_ wearing the drab gray uniform that the other orphans had; they were both dressed in matching suits that looked very nice and more importantly new. While one had vividly green eyes and starling red hair the other had very dark eyes and hair. Looking at the room and the two of them was like seeing two very odd brightly colored things on an ordinary gray wall. The contrast was staggering.

"How do you do, Tom, Harry?" Albus said walking forward to shake their hands. The one with dark hair hesitated but eventually took his hand. When he tried to shake the other red haired child's hand he merely looked at Albus blankly until he took his hand back. "I am Professor Dumbledore." Albus said as a way to begin introductions.

"I'm Tom and this is Harry," the boy with dark hair said as he gestured to himself and then to the quiet boy with red hair.

**A.N.: and I gotta stop there! Lol sorry for the cliffy! I'll try getting the next chapter up quickly so you don't have to suffer it for long! So let me know what you think? Review please! To everyone who review the last chapter! Thanks! I got all fired up and finished this one so much quicker when I saw all those reviews! XD next chapter we get to see a whole new twist on the infamous meeting between Dumbledore and Tom Riddle. **


	4. Soul Searing

**Chapter 4: Soul Searing **

"**Some things scratch the surface while others strike at your soul."****  
****―****Gianna Perada**

**~Albus~ **

Albus looked around the room again trying to puzzle this contrast out and the two boys remained studiously silent staring at him. Well, Tom was staring at him Harry had lost interest in him and was staring daydreaming out the window. The blankets on the bed were thick and looked very warm. There was only one bed, which made Dumbledore think that the two boys must share the bed and while odd at their age it was not unheard of between siblings.

Albus supposed that to the two of them they were the closest thing either had to family and that was mostly since they both seemed to be magical. There was a curious set of ivories from a piano laid out on the desk exactly like it would have been in a piano, things were just getting curiouser and curiouser. "Professor, is that like Doctor," Tom said wearingly narrowing his eyes on him, "What are you here for? Did she get you to come have a look at me?"

Tom's eyes were narrowed and his jaw was clenched. Sadly, this wasn't an uncommon reaction among muggle borns since magic made their muggle parents very nervous. It wasn't at all unusual to find a student or two in an asylum sadly enough. "No, no," Albus reassured him as his eyes got caught on how tightly Tom was holding Harry's hand. Tom hand was white knuckled and Harry's was losing color rapidly.

Harry did even seem to reacting to the bruising grip the other boy had on him and had yet to look away from the window. He was a very odd boy. "I don't believe you," Tom said voice having the faintest stirrings of panic, "She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!" Albus was startled by the heavy wave of magic that came with that command and had he been a lesser man he fully expected that he might very well, be spilling all his secrets by now.

As it was Albus was a very powerful wizard in his own right and merely shrugged off the demanding compulsion of the unfocused raw magic. Tom was glaring rather fiercely at him looking at him expectantly and Albus simply smiled not allowing the boy to think he could be intimidated by something so petty. Tom back down from glaring and began to eye him wearily, "Who are you?" he said. Albus noticed that Harry had turned his attention from the window and was staring at Tom's face with a very strange expression on his face.

"I told you. My name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school named Hogwarts, I have come to offer you both a place at my school, if you would like to come of course." He said nodding his head genially.

Tom's reaction was not what Albus was expecting; he leapt up from the bed dragging Harry along with him and backed them both up against the wall. "You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? That old cat's the one that should be in an asylum!" Tom looked very ready to begin a panicked argument about that when the most curious thing happened. Harry reached up with his free hand and pinched him…rather hard if the other's boy's flinch was anything to go by.

Albus watched as Tom turned glaring eyes to Harry, they stared each other down and Albus had the most curious feeling they were having a conversation just by staring at each other. If the boys had been a bit older and pure bloods Albus would have almost been inclined to believe that they were reading each other's thoughts. As it was he just felt oddly let out as two boys who knew each other well had a silent conversation in front of him.

**~Tom~**

This man made Tom very nervous from the moment he walked into their bedroom door. It was because Tom couldn't _feel_ anything from him…it was as disturbing as the man's oddly colored velvet suit. From as far back as Tom could remember he could feel people, get impressions of them from that feeling and it had given him a certain feeling of power. He was special, he could know a lot about someone just from a feeling he got about them and it gave him power over those people.

Harry was reacting strangely to the man as well pulling in her magic and tugging his over her like a cloak. Tom thoughts were running a mile a minute, the only other person he hadn't been able to feel had been a doctor that had come to set his arm a few years ago, and going by that this man might be a doctor. However, it was what type of doctor that he might be that set Tom in a panic because he was not injured.

Tom thought furiously about why Mrs. Cole would call in a head doctor, the only major incident had happened last summer to Amy and Dennis. They should have gotten over that by now, really, what was a little pain? But this must be one of those things that he didn't understand properly and it had come with graver consequences than he thought it would warrant. He was yelling before he really knew what he was saying, his anger had gotten away from him and he blindly glared at the man who would take him away from Harry.

There was a sharp pain on his arm and Tom turned his attention to Harry. She was staring at him and Tom felt the faintest brush against his mind, _Calm down_. The command echoed across his thoughts but Tom couldn't. If this man took him away he would lock him in a room and he would never see freedom again. It would be hell, and he would die there forgotten and alone. He would never have the chance to be as great as he knew he could be, and he would lose the chance to discover the secret to immortality.

_Calm down,_ the command repeated across his thoughts. _I can't_, Tom shouted back at her _he wants to take me away from you_. Harry blinked at him and her voice said soothingly through his thought,_ he is offering __**both**__ of us a place at his 'school' or were you not paying attention?_ Tom startled for a minute before he felt a rush of anger at the man but before he could say anything Harry's voice echoed through his thoughts again. _We are strong, you and I, together we can stop him if what you think is true. Then we will run away from this place a little earlier then we planned. So __**calm down**__ and __**think**__._

"I am not from the asylum," the man Dumbledore said breaking up their thoughts and drawing Tom's attention again, "I am a teacher and, if you will sit down calmly, I shall tell you about Hogwarts. Of course, if you would rather not come to school nobody will force you-."

"I'd like to see them try," Tom hissed at Dumbledore as he tightened his magic around Harry.

"Hogwarts," Dumbledore went on seemingly unfazed by his threat, "is a school for people with special abilities-."

"I'm not…" Tom began to shout, he knew it was an asylum but then Harry pinched him again. Her command to _Shut up and calm down_ echoed roughly through his mind. It was always harder for them to talk when he was upset without eye contact.

"I know that you are not mad. Hogwarts is not a school for mad people. It is a school of magic." Dumbledore said sighing as if he finally said something he had been waiting to say for a while.

Tom froze; he turned to look at Harry and caught her eyes with his own. _Did you know Hogwarts was for magic?_ He demanded harshly. Harry just blinked at him unmoved; _I didn't know there were magic schools. Obviously there are more of us out there than we had anticipated. _Tom glared at her and shifted his weight. His mind had calmed down with the word magic, _magic_, that was what Harry had told him years ago. 'We're magic'. Tom turned his attention back to Dumbledore eyes searching his face as he tried to feel the power from him but all he felt was emptiness.

Dumbledore wasn't giving off the wave of power Tom had felt when Harry had arrived at the orphanage, but he didn't have that hallow feeling normal people had either. Dumbledore was a blank slate, a void in his feeling, and Tom didn't like it…didn't trust it. "Magic?" Tom whispered…Dumbledore would have to prove that he had it before Tom ever admitted to anything. This could just be some trick, and Tom had to be sure.

"That's right," Dumbledore said smiling at them.

"It's magic…what we do?" Tom said slowly eyes narrowed.

What is it that you two can do?" Dumbledore asked him as if in a challenge.

Tom opened his mouth to answer him in a rush of anger, eager to prove his superiority, but Harry pinched him again. Tom shook his head, "All sorts of things, I knew we were different, I knew I was special…always…I knew there was something." He said as if in a daze.

"Well, you were quite right," said Dumbledore who was no longer smiling but had a frown of disappointment. "You both are wizards." He said simply.

Tom felt strange, finally a title, finally a confirmation he was something _more_ than a simple orphan…that he deserved more than this shabby place. However, suspicion crept back into his heart as he looked at Dumbledore's unsmiling face. The man didn't feel like magic, he felt like nothing, and what if he was only here to whisper promises to make them feel safe. Like that priest who had pretended to understand to lore him into the room where he had _tried_ to exorcise him. "Are you a wizard too?" Tom asked eyes coldly calculating.

"Yes I am," Dumbledore said simply.

"Prove it," Tom demanded voice filling up with more magic this time he commanded, "Tell the truth."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at him, "If, as I take it, you are accepting your place at Hogwarts-"

"Of course we are!" Tom said fiercely.

"Harry too," Dumbledore asked eyebrow rose at the ever silent Harry.

"Of course," she said quietly.

"Then you both will address me as 'Professor' or 'sir'." Dumbledore said firmly.

Tom's face hardened, he hated being mocked, and he was coming to hate this Dumbledore. However, Tom had learned his lessons well and bit that hatred back, "I'm sorry sir, I meant—please, Professor could you show me-?" Tom watched Dumbledore withdraw a stick from his inside pocket, he felt the most curious thing from it…like magic but softer…more controlled. Then Dumbledore pointed it at their wardrobe and gave the stick a casual flick.

The wardrobe burst into flames.

Tom jumped as he felt a jolt of panic; all their things were in there, all their nice suits and some of their more precious things! It would burn everything; he felt his stomach drop in dread, and hatred swell up inside him choking the words inside his throat. He felt like screaming in rage, he needed to punish this insolent man for destroying _everything_, he would kill him…break him…make him pay. Just as he was about to unleash his attack he felt another pinch and felt a surge of anger at Harry.

**~Harry~**

Harry felt her stomach drop as she watched their wardrobe be consumed by flame and even though she knew it wouldn't harm anything Harry felt the faint stirrings of anger. Tom was gearing up beside her to unleash hell on her old headmaster and Harry pinched him again. She disregarded his glares, he would learn in time to control himself and turned her eyes to Dumbledore as the wardrobe started to rattle. Dumbledore whose face was cold and unflinching as if he wasn't terrorizing two children with his thoughtless actions.

"I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe," Dumbledore said coolly to Tom as the wardrobe rattled ominously. Tom glared at Dumbledore and released Harry's hand to cautiously approach the door of the wardrobe. "Open the door," Dumbledore commanded.

Tom glared at him and wrenched open the door defiantly revealing the wardrobes contents. Their clothes hang on a rack, pressed, and well taken care of and on the shelf above them was Tom's box of treasures that was rattling like the contents had come alive. "Take it out," Dumbledore commanded in a cold voice.

During all this Harry felt something strange, something she hadn't felt in a long time…indignation…anger…_protectiveness_…the emotions surprised her so much for a moment she did nothing and could only watch. She watched as Dumbledore looked down at Tom coldly forcing him to spread the contents of his treasure box on their bed. A Yo-yo belonging to the one that had broken Tom's arm, a silver thimble from the helper that had gotten the priest in here to 'help' Tom and a harmonica from the boy who had always hiss _freak_ at them all lay out on the bed.

These were things Tom had taken in retribution, to show those horrible people he was stronger than they wanted him to be…that he could _survive and thrive_ in their hostility. Harry began to shake; a familiar anger began to creep over her and her hands clenched as she fought to regain her indifference.

"You will return them to their owners with your apologies," Dumbledore said sternly, as he put his wand back into his jacket, "I shall know whether it has been done. And be warmed: _Thieving_ is not tolerated at Hogwarts." Then he gave Tom a nod, full of satisfaction and self righteousness.

Something inside Harry snapped and she rushed between the two of them. Dumbledore startled at her sudden movement and stumbled back from where he had been leaning imperiously over Tom. "Excuse me sir, but are you planning to adopt Tom?" Harry asked dangerously calm.

Dumbledore looked quite startled at the seemingly sudden question and shook his head frowning, "I am afraid not, I am sad to say," he said but Harry saw he wasn't saddened by that at all.

Her fists clenched and her fingernails bit into her skin, "Then I am a little confused about your actions and words here today," she said glaring at him piercing him through with her eyes. "You do _not_ plan to adopt Tom, you do _not_ plan to take on a father role, and yet here you stand _presuming _to give him an inept moral lesson? What gives you that right? You are an _**outsider**_ to this, you have spent maybe an hour in our presence and yet you _**imagine**_ that you can do this to us?" Harry said waving vaguely to the wardrobe.

Dumbledore looked ready to defend himself but Harry refused to give him that chance. "Frankly _sir_, your callous disregard to how we would view you _threatening_ **everything** we own by lighting our wardrobe on **fire** has taken away any impact your words might have had. All you have done today is bully us. You think you know Tom because perhaps Mrs. Cole has shared with you some of her suspicions and so you have come in here with your view of him already tainted in your mind. Have you given any thought to _**his side**_ of things, about _why_ he might have taken these things from someone?" she said.

"No! You have not; instead you come in here with your black and white world view. You come in here assured to your own righteousness and by doing so you have ensured at the _very least_ my own hostility! What gives you the right to do your heavy handed lessons on morality? What gives you the right to take that role? You were not here for the struggle, you will not be with us when we _rise_, you cannot begin to deduce our reason, or try to understand us…no _sir_…you are **not **our guardian. You are _not_ our **father**, it is not _**your place**_ to punish or presume to dictate terms to us! You may be our future Professor but you have not gained any respect from us today…only enmity…only fostering anger and resentment." She said.

"Until the day you wish to invest the time to raise Tom, until the day you decide to take on the role of father to him, until then I am afraid I will have to tell you to _stay out of our affairs_. You may have power over us once we step foot into Hogwarts but until that time _**you have no power here**_. You are just someone who is supposed to tell us what we need to know. So, Tom _will not_ be returning _**anything**_ because you have assumed much by giving him such an order. You will sit there, explain what we need to know calmly and then you will leave us. Because frankly _**sir**_ at the moment I can hardly stand the sight of you. Did it occur to you that everything we own, _all our worldly possessions_, are in that wardrobe?" she said.

"Did you even think about how horrible it would feel if _we _came into _your home_ and set _all your things_ on _**FIRE**_? Everything we have we have earned from the blood and sweat off our own backs! We do not have the luxury of some children to have parents to provide for us and so we must provide for ourselves! So **don't you dare come in here thinking your better than us**, that you _**know**_ better, because until _you _have lived your entire life with no one to help you or guide you…until then you cannot presume to even _imagine_ what we our life has been like or who we are! You _sir_, are nothing more than a bully of a man that thinks he knows best but let me tell _you_ something. _**You know nothing!**_" Harry hissed at him panting from her rant and form barely contained anger.

**~Albus~**

Albs staggered into a chair that sat by their desk, blown away, and tried to process what the hell just happened. The quiet one, the one that didn't seem to be able to muster enough excitement to even acknowledge him…had given him a verbal lashing he hadn't had since his mother had been alive. Thinking about that made Albus think of the last verbal lashing his mother had given him before she had passed…it had been frighteningly similar to this one.

He watched as Harry huffed and puffed as he straightened squaring his shoulders. Tom had the oddest expression on his face, an expression he had not seen before and he stepped up beside Harry taking his hand again. Then Tom looked at him, smug, and superior as he tilted his chin up at him to look at him from down his nose. How he managed to do that while Albus was quite certain he was much taller than the boy Albus wasn't sure.

"Forgive me I have overstepped my bounds," Albus said as he nodded to Harry and the flames went out on the wardrobe. "You will find that your things have not been damaged from my rash behavior." He said simply. There was nothing else he could say, Harry had quite skillfully painted him into a corner using words alone and now there was nothing he could do but apologize. He felt a little bitterness seeing how smug his apology had made Tom but he stifled it for now.

He had bungled this enough without losing his temper again. Albus had thought by showing Tom that stealing and bullying wouldn't be tolerated…in fact punished severely then he would think twice about his way. Albus had hoped to make him see that his actions have consequences, that Tom wouldn't be able to hide using magic in the magical world. He straightened in the chair and tried to make his badly handled point anyway.

"At Hogwarts," Albus said, "we teach you not only how to use magic, but to control it. You both have—inadvertently, I am sure—been using your powers without proper guidance. You are not the first, nor will you be the last, to allow your magic to run away with you. But our world has laws, the Ministry of Magic—yes, there is a Ministry—that say that it is not allowed for children to use magic unsupervised. Our world is a hidden one, we cannot have children running around drawing attention, all new wizards must accept that, in entering our world, they must abide my our laws. So I must caution you that we will not tolerate magic outside of the classroom until you are of age."

Tom's face got twisted with anger and he moved to shout at him…Albus was sure. However, Harry pulled him back and turned to look at him coolly. "Your school year it starts in September, I expect?" he said evenly.

"Yes, quite right my boy," Albus said cautiously.

Harry smiled at him, giving Albus the impression of a shark grinning at its prey before it bites, "It's the middle of January now, September is still months away and we will not be entering _your world_ until then I expect. So _until _we do your laws do not confine us. _**You**_ did say that no one can force us to attend Hogwarts, as such no one can force us to enter your world and abide by _your_ laws." He said smirking.

Albus felt quite, frustrated, this was not at all going how he had expected. Mr. Riddle was nothing like the other muggle borns Albus had introduced all wide eyed and in awe of the world he presented them. No, Mr. Riddle was difficult, a bully, and a thief…coldly calculating. Mr. Vedette was not what he had been expecting either, he had been so silent…so distant at first and now Albus was feeling like a child before his upset mother. It was not a feeling he enjoyed, he was a grown man and didn't appreciate how low this _child_ had made him feel.

However, Albus knew he had not handle this as maturely as he should have…he saw that now…and forced himself to swallow his bitterness about this situation. "I am at a loss on how to proceed, it seems we are at an impasse, was there something you would like to know?" Albus asked hoping to turn this conversation a little less hostile.

"We haven't the money," Tom said sneering at the olive branch Albus was presenting but taking it none the less.

"That is easily remedied," Albus said smiling as he drew out two leather money pouches from his pocket. "There is a fund at Hogwarts for those who require assistance to buy books and robes. You might have to buy some of your spellbooks and so on secondhand, but—"

"Where do you buy spellbooks?" interrupted Riddle taking the money bags from Albus without thanking him. Albus was not amused but he did not reprimand him as the now silent Harry was still eying him with those penetrating green eyes. It seemed Riddle was taking over the lead in talking once more and Albus wanted this over with as soon as possible.

"In Diagon Alley," Albus answered, "I have your list of books and school equipment with me. I can help you both find everything—"

"That will not be necessary Professor, I think we both would much rather do this on our own…you have proven to be _unaccommodating _and we wouldn't want to _inconvenience _you." Harry said softly words still as sharp as knives.

"We're used to doing things for ourselves, we go around London on our own all the time and we don't need you. How do you get to this Diagon Alley—_sir_?" Tom asked mockingly.

Albus was tempted to insist on coming with them, just to put a bee in their bonnet, but he wanted to be out of their company more. So he gave them both their equipment lists and their acceptance letter. He told them exactly how to get to the Leaky Cauldron from the orphanage and then he said, "You will be able to see it, although Muggles around you—non magical people, that is—will not. Ask for Tom the barman—easy enough to remember, as he shares your name—" Albus saw Tom twitch like he had irritated by a troublesome fly.

"You dislike the name 'Tom'?" Albus asked trying not to feel satisfaction at Tom's flinch. Albus decided then and there Mr. Riddle would always be _Tom_ to him.

"There are a lot Toms," muttered Tom. Then as if he could not stop himself from asking a question burst out from Tom, "Was my father a wizard? He was called Tom Riddle too, they've told me." He asked.

"I'm afraid I do not know," Albus said.

"My mother can't have been magic, or she wouldn't have died," Tom said more to himself than to them. "It must've been him. So—when we have all our things—when do we go to Hogwarts?" Tom asked.

"All the details are in the acceptance letters I have given you; you'll both leave from King's Cross Station on the first of September. There is a train ticket in there too." Albus said standing. He wanted to get back to Hogwarts and have a nice warm cup of fire whiskey. Albus nodded to the two of them and excused himself from the room. It looked for a moment that Tom was going to say something more but Harry pinched him again. Albus couldn't help being a bit amused at Tom's indignant expression.

"Goodbye Mr. Riddle, Mr. Vedette, I shall see you at Hogwarts." He said simply leaving them with no small amount of relief.

**~Tom~**

Tom waited until he was sure Dumbledore was gone before he rubbed his bruised arm and glared at Harry. "Oh don't be a baby;" Harry said at his expression, "you were two steps away from spilling all our secrets. Sometimes, Tom it is best to leave a little mystery when dealing with unruly adults." She said as she set her letter and her money pouch on the bed. Begrudgedly Tom accepted that perhaps Harry was right and followed her example of setting down his things.

"Are you going to tell him you're a girl," he asked, "they seem to be under the impression you're a boy." Tom said sneering at their blindness.

Harry sat down on her chair and brought her violin case onto her lap, "I am not sure I want to clear up their confusion," she said as she took out the violin and began polishing it.

Tom sat down on the bed and opened his letter to read it. "Why?" he asked simply. It wasn't that Tom cared that Harry wanted to pretend she was a boy but he was curious about why she wanted to continue to do so.

Harry looked up at Tom and had the oddest expression on her face, "Tell me Tom, what is expected of women in the non-magical world? Can they vote? Are they paid well? Do they have the same rights men do? Are they treated equal to any man? …No…so until I can see how this 'magical world' will treat a girl I much prefer the safety and rights given to a boy." Harry said simply as she resumed polishing her violin.

For a moment Tom said nothing, he looked at Harry considering, and then back at the letter in his hands. It was true, there were very few jobs women could be hired for and even fewer that paid well. Until something changed, until women had more power, Tom wouldn't want to be a woman either and he couldn't begrudge Harry her masquerade. Tom looked up at beautiful Harry, the only person in the entire world who had _ever_ stood up for him…and smirked, "I'll change it for you." He said.

"What?" Harry asked looking up at him again.

"The world, one day, I'll change the entire world for you and then you won't have to pretend anymore," Tom said with conviction. He _would_ change the world and one day they would bow at both of their feet. One day everything would change for them…Tom would make sure of it and until then they would have to use what they could to become the ones with power. Instead of the ones the powerful people used and abused.

Harry had a strange expression on her face, she looked at him as if she was seeing him for the first time, "I think you will Tom, how could you not change the world…just by being you." She said simply before smiling and going back to polishing. Tom felt a strange surge of pride at Harry's belief in him…not that there was ever any doubt but it was still nice. It felt warm…like her magic…and without realizing it Tom smiled…soft and small. Harry saw the small smile from the corner of her eye and wished she had a camera so she could capture that smile for the whole world to see.

**A.N.: Whooo, what a ride! Thanks for all your wonderful reviews! ^_^ you guys are great and so I just had to get this out as soon as I could! Please read and review to tell me your thoughts! What do you think about Harry's little confrontation with Dumbledore, satisfying? Lol **


	5. A Throne called Grace

**Chapter 5: A Throne called Grace**

"**Un-winged and naked, sorrow surrenders its crown to a throne called grace."****  
****―****Aberjhani**

**~Harry~ **

The morning after Dumbledore's visit Harry found herself getting ready along with Tom for their first foray into the magical world. Her thoughts were running around in circles, had she changed so much from her first life as the boy-who-lived that she could feel this way about her old mentor. Harry thought she had resolved any of her lingering anger at her old teacher during the beginnings of her endless cycle of death and rebirth. However, Harry was beginning to realize there were some things she had not worked through, there were some things she hadn't faced and it was festering there inside of her.

Tom grabbed her hand and Harry's eyes looked longingly at her violin case before they made their way out into London in search of the 'Leaky Cauldron'. The feeling of Tom's hand entwined with her own brought up another line of thoughts that Harry wasn't sure she knew how to answer and it left her feeling very confused. For a long time her life had been an endless loop of nothingness, she was alive but she was not _**living**_.

There had been a few of her lives where she had tried to help people, unable to fight her 'saving people thing' and she had tried to change the world. There were lives she had been the woman who had stood up and demanded she be treated as an equal to men. Lives where she had been that black skinned man that had fought to escape slavery and seek freedom for his people. There were lives Harry had in the beginning that all he had wanted to do was change the world into a better place. She scoffed at her idealism now, bitter and apathetic to the struggle she saw around her.

The truth of the matter was that Harry knew that if she stood up for anything, if she tried to make the world better, than she would be knocked down and killed much faster. The longest she had ever lived in a body after her first life had only been nine years, all spent out in the wilderness away from people and even then she had been killed by a bear. Harry knew that the life she was living was temporary, that nothing she did truly mattered because she would be dead soon enough.

Why fight? Why look for love? Why start a family? When death would come for her as soon as she had a taste of that happiness. Her eyes found Tom's face and a longing she had forced herself to forget came welling up inside of her choking out of her apathy. Harry wasn't sure why she needed Tom; why being near him made her feel _**alive**_ for the first time in a _very_ long time but it did. In the beginning Harry had told herself it was because Tom was the closest she had ever gotten to going back to her first life. That what she was feeling for Tom was only a reflection of the feelings she had experienced from her life as the boy-who-lived.

Then Dumbledore had come to give them their letters yesterday and Harry couldn't sit back letting that old man look down on Tom. There had been that familiar rush of angry protectiveness Harry had remembered from her fifth year of schooling from her life as Harry Potter. She had acted without thinking, without considering, like she had when she had rushed into that trap at the Ministry so she could 'save' Sirius. Harry realized that somehow in the years she had been by Tom's side that come what may she had developed feelings for the boy.

These feelings were odd, she wanted to protect him, she wanted to be by his side always, and she never wanted him to let go of her hand. Harry had never felt anything like this before, even when she had been married to Ginny, Harry had never felt this obsessive _need_ to be near someone before Tom. Harry tired to push it away from her thoughts, had tried to make excuses that Tom wasn't the same one who had killed her loved ones…at least not yet. However, Harry had been by Tom's side long enough to know that wasn't quite true.

The potential was there, in his vindictive hurting of others, in his cold disgust of other people, in his cool superiority and his confusion over emotions. Tom was Voldemort, he had it all there inside of him waiting to be unleashed and it would…in time. Nevertheless, Harry found that she didn't care and let him do as he pleased without batting an eyelash. His need to hurt people didn't disgust her as it once had in her life as the boy-who-lived. She could no longer muster up that superior feeling of pity that she had for him as the boy-who-lived.

Pity had been squeezed out of her a long time ago; pity was for other people to feel, because she had no _pity_ left in her. Feeling pity meant _feeling sorry_ for someone else and that was just not something she could feel anymore. Harry had lived through enough hardship that she knew quite intimately people got what they paid for in choices and actions. If someone had a rough life there was no reason they couldn't pick themselves up to make their lives easier.

Harry had done it, had been born in the lowest of lows and still striven to make the best she could of what she had been given. Now all she felt for people who wallowed in their pain and made excuses for how themselves about why their lives were so horrible, was disgust. The truth of the matter was that life was what you made it. One can easily turn suffering into salvation…misery into grace…if one tried. Tom was abashedly himself, he did not cower at the rough handling he had been given…no Tom _rose up_. Tom looked at the squalor he was born into and _**knew he could become better**_.

Harry admired him for that, for not letting his circumstances beat him down and instead he rose up to the challenge. Harry hadn't lied when she had told Tom that she believed he would change the world…she knew he would one way or another. Maybe he being in his life would change Tom for the better, maybe it wouldn't, but that wasn't for her to decide…that was for Tom. Because if there was one thing she had learned in all her time on this earth was this…you cannot change anyone but yourself. Harry spotted the street that the Leaky Cauldron would be on and nudged Tom to let him know.

**~Tom~**

Tom willed his hands to stop shaking and lifted his chin up as his hand tightened around Harry's. This was it, the Leaky Cauldron, the entrance to the world he belonged to…to his future. They stepped into the Cauldron and Tom saw Harry flatten her bangs over her forehead. It was not what he had been expecting, the grim, the shabbiness, it was all too familiar and Tom resisted the urge to sneer. He pulled Harry with him up to the Barman figuring this was the Tom they had been told to seek out.

"Excuse me sir," Tom said to get the bartender's attention, "Would you be so kind as to show us into Diagon Alley?" Tom said as the bartender gave him a gap tooth smile.

"Sure," the bartender said as he came around leading them into the back.

Tom wrinkled his nose at the garage piled back there and watched with keen eyes as the barman tapped the bricks making them fall away. The Barman excused himself after and for a moment Tom just stood there staring from the corner of his eye he caught Harry flattening her bangs again. The sight of the cramped alley, bustling with activity and filled with so many things he had never seen before made Tom freeze. "Let's only get a couple books today and our wands," Harry said snapping him out of it a moment later.

His attention diverted Tom looked at Harry and nodded, "We shall come here every other day so we can become acclimated to this new culture." Harry agreed easily and then Tom pulled her into the alley close behind him. The alley was so crowded that Tom had to press Harry firmly into his side to make sure she didn't get separated from him. His eyes scanned the signs searching for a place to buy their wands and finally after fighting through the crowds for a good half hour they found Ollivanders.

Ollivanders, _Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._, seemed very promising so Tom pulled Harry into the shop. There was a family in there already and the girl with them was waving around a wand with a bored look on her face. Tom felt a surge of resentment as the girl pouted up at her father as he encouraged her to try another wand. Some children just didn't know how easy they had it. Tom pulled Harry into a seat beside him as they waited for the girl to finish.

About five minutes later a wand shot up green sparks and the girl squealed in delight. The father paid for the wand as the mother hugged the girl proud smile on her face. Tom wanted to throw something at them and was relieved when they left. The man, Ollivander, blinked at them with huge silver eyes and asked which arms were their 'wand arms'. Tom just followed Harry's lead and held out the hand he wrote with watching with narrowed eyes as two tape measurers started to take their measurements.

Around the time the tape measure was trying to measure the length of his nose and Tom was considering incinerating the thing Ollivander came back with an armful of boxes. Inside each box was a wand that Ollivander told them to "Give them a wave," and then he just stood there looking at them disturbingly. Tom hesitated, what if none of the wands picked him? He reached out and took the wand from the cushion feeling like a fool as he waved it around.

Ollivander snatched it out of his hands quickly and handed it to Harry who waved it for less time than he had before Ollivander took it from her too. So it went, wand after wand, and none picked him. It was standing like he was standing in line with the other children on visitor day for the first time again. What if no wand picked him? Like no adult had ever picked him. They had been in there for hours it seemed like with no luck and Tom was beginning to doubt himself.

Harry seemed to sense his thoughts because Tom felt her magic wrap around him like a warm hug. _Calm Down_, echoed through his mind, _I'm here._ Tom released a breath he hadn't known he had been holding and gave Ollivander the latest useless wand. Ollivander was looking more and more excited the more wands rejected the pair of them. "Hmm I wonder," the wand maker said as he went back into the stacks of wands.

When Ollivander came back he was carrying two boxes, one he placed on the counter and the other he gave to Tom. The creepy old man stared at Tom as he opened the box, inside was a pale white wand and Tom stood there staring at it. "Thirteen and a half inches, Yew and Phoenix feather core, very strong, go on now…give it a wave," Ollivander said smiling eagerly.

Tom picked up the wand and felt a rush of power run through him as a shower of silver sparks shot out the end of the wand. It was nothing like Tom had ever felt before; a sense of belonging, similar to how he felt when his magic danced with Harry's but different. He felt so powerful, like nothing could stop him as long as he had this wand in his hands and a smile broke out on his face. Spontaneous and startling in his inability to fight it off his face the smile only widened.

Harry clapped and Tom turned to her grinning he hoped Harry would find her own wand soon. Ollivander fiddled with the other box he had placed on the counter, "I wonder," he said as he handed Harry the box. When Harry opened it she froze, and she stared wide eyed at the wand in the box. Slowly she reached out with a shaking hand into the box and Tom watched proudly as her wand showered her in gold. "Curiouser and Curiouser," Ollivander mumbled as he put away the other rejected wands.

"Excuse me, sir, but what is so curious?" Tom asked to euphoric about his wand to be annoyed at the mysterious behavior.

Ollivander smiled at him strangely before pointing to the wand in Harry's hand, "Elven inches, Holly, and Phoenix feather…curious that young Miss Vedette here was destined for that wand. The Phoenix gave me one other feather, just one, and it's in your wand Mr. Riddle. Brother wands foraged on the same night under the harvest moon, curiouser and curiouser. I expect great things from the two of you, great things," he said mysteriously.

Tom felt an excited rush of smugness run through him; _of course_ their wands were brother wands, _of course_. Harry was _**his**_, _of course_, she would have the other wand that matched his wand… a pair foraged together. Tom paid the man for both wands and got them two used wand holsters that strapped to their arms. Harry took the two boxes that the wands had come in and the wand servicing kit that Ollivander shoved into her hands.

Something was bothering Harry about her wand but she refused to tell him so Tom simply resolved to get it out of her later. Sometimes Harry was like that, she would see something, or say something that made her go really quite for the rest of the day. Sometimes she wouldn't say another word for a week or two. Those were the times Tom would catch her playing the violin in their room every spare moment and then staring out into space the rest of time.

The Alley had thinned while they were inside the wand shop and it was much easier finding a book store without all those people in the way. The first bookstore they found though had only brand new books and no second hand ones they could see. Still Tom wanted to see what sort of books they should look for and dragged Harry along for browsing. Harry followed along closely as Tom skimmed through the titles, every so often he would pick one up read the first page and place it back down.

Tom was just turning the corner around a dark spot in the store when a boy maybe a year or two older than him bumped into Tom. "Watch where you're going mudblood," The boy sneered as he smoothed out his expensive looking robes. Tom's eyes narrowed as he watched the boy place a bag of marbles into his pockets. Tom hated being looked down upon and when the boy slammed into Tom again as he walked past Tom's hand slipped into his pocket.

The boy didn't even notice that he had lost his bag of marbles and Tom tucked them into Harry's jacket pocket as he turned his attention back to the books. His enthusiasm was steadily blown away by his anger at the boy's insult, wondering what it meant and why the boy had labeled Tom it at a glance. He pulled Harry out of the shop and searched for a second hand shop with a single minded fury. Eventually they ended up in an alley that was an offshoot of Diagon, it was called Nook Alley, and it was full of dingy little shops. Tom found a few books that were worn and yellowed from time, with writing on the sides and with bindings coming lose.

He got quite a few of such books without checking titles or content. The shop keepers tried to charge him more than the books were work but Tom was in such a fury that he negotiated them down to almost nothing with a single minded brutality. Once he had gotten ten books into a bag with an undetectable expansion charm on it (he had gotten that as a 'gift with purchase' from a shopkeeper that had been desperate to get rid of him) they left for the orphanage.

**~Harry~**

What did it mean, she wondered. Her holly wand, her first wand, had chosen her again…what could it mean? In her first life as the boy-who-lived she had been the first one to have wielded it…she was sure. So how could she have it now, what could it mean? When the orphanage came into view Tom's bruising grip on her hand loosened just enough so she could get the feeling back to her fingers. It brought her attention to Tom once again, just this morning Harry had marveled at how unchanged Tom was…how she could still see Voldemort inside of him.

It made her wonder if perhaps she was wrong, her holly wand felt heavy on her arm, perhaps Harry had changed more than she had thought. Tom was still had the potential to become Voldemort, there was no doubt about that…but did the world still have the potential to give rise to her as Harry Potter? Harry wasn't so sure anymore, the wand on her arm seemed heavy and damning. How could so much have changed?

Harry knew time was a human concept, that it was just a set of rules people had given to natural events to measure the unmeasureable and yet she had always thought some things could not change. Harry had noted that it hadn't mattered where or when she woke up in a new body…only that the person must have died beforehand. However, if by taking this wand…if by being here…now…with Tom…maybe she had changed something.

The Holly wand had been hers once, and here it was hers once again. It brought up a whole lot of questions that Harry had never really considered asking, like what being the Master of Death truly meant. If she could change something, _really change something_, that would change her first life as well…then how was she the Master of Death? If her life as Harry Potter could be changed then didn't that mean she could change the way she had handled her life then? Didn't that mean she could _**stop**_ herself from becoming the Master of Death?

But if she could stop herself, why was she still here? The Holly wand seemed like an omen now, an omen of a whole new chapter of her life and Harry wasn't sure she liked where this was going. They made it up to their room and Tom put away the books as she kicked off her shoes crawling into their bed. Tom settled his head into her lap as she sat there putting his face into her stomach breathing in deeply as he took the bag of marbles out of her pocket.

The sight of the marbles calmed him down and suddenly Harry wanted to distract herself from her terribly disturbing thoughts. She took the bag placing it down beside her and taking out one of the marbles. The small glass ball swirled through different shades of green and she held it up to the light. "Let's play a game," Harry said as she pushed her magic to make the marble float above her hand.

"What are the rules?" Tom asked as he looked at her display of magic with interest.

"Simple, we each change the one marble into something else, it has to be glass, but mass, volume, shape and color are all changeable. We take turns, whoever stomps the other with the most detailed piece wins," Harry said as she twirled her finger and the marble morphed into a delicate figure of a snowflake.

"What do I get when I win," Tom asked as he picked a marble from the bag not bothering to get up from her lap. He glared at the marble in his hand and it slowly became a miniature glass violin that looked exactly like her violin. He smirked up at her and floated their two creations onto the desk. Harry blinked, she hadn't expected Tom to get it so quickly but then she supposed he _was_ a _**genius**_.

"What would you like?" Harry asked as she picked up another marble. This one twisted and twirled becoming a small glass butterfly that floated over to the desk easily.

Tom smirked and picked up his own marble. His marble turned into a small fighter plane and he floated it over to their desk with a careless wave of his hand. "Let me think about it," Tom said as he studied her face with an unparalleled intensity.

"Alright," Harry said as she picked up her marble. Her marble became a small glass mermaid with a starfish in her hair and a small heart shaped face. Tom seemed to take this as a personal challenge because his marble became a medium sized glass centaur with extraordinary detail. For a moment Harry just stared at it before she picked up her own marble.

It always surprised her just how gifted Tom was, and not just in magic. Tom was one of those once in a lifetime, honest to goodness prodigies that showed up randomly. Tom was more intelligent than should have been possible considering his learning environment and the resources he had available. With little more than library books, public schooling and some self study Tom was more educated than most college grads were during this time. The scary thing was he wasn't even really _trying_, Tom soaked it all up like a sponge and magic came as easily to him as breathing.

Honestly, what child could teach itself to do the _mind arts_ as an _**accident**_? Only Tom, because had anyone else tried Harry was sure they would have destroyed their mind. Tom was passively reading thoughts by ten, without any instruction beside his own in magic and that was before he had ever even heard of Hogwarts. Frankly, if Tom hadn't destroyed his very frightening mind by ripping his soul apart Harry was quite certain she would have never been able to defeat him.

Her marble turned into a unicorn and she let Tom float it over to the desk without a thought. That was also very disturbing to think about, here Harry was countless years of experience under her belt and she was barely now starting to do magic that Tom had been doing naturally since he was a toddler. Tom picked up his marble and Harry barely blinked before it became a black Pegasus. "I know what I want now," Tom said as he watched her pick up her marble for her turn.

"Oh, what is it?" Harry asked as she turned her marble into a small grand piano. Harry thought she shouldn't let herself be so surprised about how much raw talent Tom had anymore. Tom was a _**genius**_, and in the truest sense of the word. It wasn't that Tom was intelligent, no; he was miles beyond _just being intelligent_. Hermione had been intelligent but she hadn't figured out magic before Hogwarts came a calling. Hermione had been the smartest woman she had ever known, she had made discoveries about magic that had her name in all the history books, but Hermione never came close to what Harry saw in Tom.

Tom was more than just book smart; he was just plain scary, give him a problem…seemingly unsolveable and through magic or otherwise Tom would figure out an answer. "Promise you'll give it to me first," Tom said slyly. Tom turned his marble into a cello and tossed it carelessly at the desk where it landed neatly.

"Okay, I promise," Harry answered just curious on what he would ask for and thoughtless agreed. She picked up a marble and turned it into a small ballerina that balanced impossibly on the small point of her foot. Tom sent it floating to the desk and took out his own marble. It turned into the most beautiful glass rose Harry had ever seen, the detail was impossibly lifelike and yet it was still glass. The red rose sparkled up at her as Tom held it up to her his long fingers holding the rose delicately.

"A kiss," Tom said face carefully blank.

"What?" Harry said blinking wide eyed as she stared at the rose he offered up to her.

"A kiss, your first kiss, that's what I want," Tom said as he smirked at her.

The rose was the exact shade of her hair and the stem was the exact shade of her eyes. All Harry could do was stare at it wide eyed unable to concentrate. "I win," Tom said smirking.

"What?" Harry blinked eyes refusing to relax from the deer in the headlights look.

"You haven't made anything new, I've stumped you with my rose, now give me my prize." Tom said as he got up getting very close to her face. He placed his rose into her limp hand and brushed his newly freed hand across her cheek. He cupped her face and Harry blinked. Was this really happening? Then Tom captured her lips pressing his lips against her own firmly. It was an innocent kiss, as far as kisses go, just a closed mouth pressing of each other's lips together.

However, it was like he had lit her lips on fire, where their faces met burned and at the same time…it felt _so good_. Harry slumped into him, kissing him back and running her free hand through his hair. The hand that held Tom's rose was captured by Tom's free hand entwining their fingers together. Where all kisses supposed to be like this? Because Harry had _never_ felt this way kissing someone before.

**A.N.: And that's a wrap! Thanks for reviewing! Read and Review! Let me know what you think! **


	6. The Love Dilemma

**Chapter 6: The Love Dilemma **

"**Love taught me to die with dignity that I might come forth anew in splendor. Born once of flesh, then again of fire, I was reborn a third time to the sound of my name humming haikus in heaven's mouth."****  
****―****Aberjhani**

**~Tom~**

Tom blinked and pulled back from Harry's face slowly. Well that was interesting, kissing certainly wasn't what he had been expecting…but it wasn't bad either. Harry stared at him for a moment before she got up and grabbed all the books Tom had gotten from the bookshelf spreading them out on the bed. "Well, let's see if you got anything useful," she said as she tossed him a book. The book was interesting it was dedicated to house hold spells and charms. Things from pest removal charms, repair, cleaning, and it touched on renovation spells.

The one Harry had picked up was in a language neither of them could decipher though going from the goblin illustration on the introduction page they were inclined to believe it was goblin. Tom took another book and it looked like it was full of math equations, only it was like no equations he had seen. Harry hummed interestedly at her book which looked like a history book so far and seemed to be very informative.

Tom picked up another book and found another history book detailing the rise and fall of Dark Lords throughout wizarding history. Harry looked over his shoulder at the passage he was reading and scuffed in disgust. "What?" Tom asked. He thought the idea of Dark Lords had some merit and were actually very interesting. Harry looked at him and then at the book, "Seems like a useless book to me." She said.

"Why?" Tom asked turning back to the book with critical eyes.

"Well these so called 'Dark Lords' seem to all do the same things," Harry said as she turned pages skimming through the contents with him. "They tip their hands way to blatantly, seems to me if you want to take over the world you would be more subtle than that so that by the time you took over no one ever realizes what happened." She said as she rested her chin on his shoulder.

Tom looked at the contexts again with a more critical eye and then had an idea, "So how would you do it?" he asked slyly.

Harry blinked at him, "Do what?" she asked confused.

"Take over the world," he said smirking.

Harry hummed then tilted her head on his shoulder in contemplation, "Well, I would do it slowly, and I wouldn't use the terror tactics most Dark Lords seem to favor. Most of these Dark Lords don't seem to last long, and you know why?" Harry asked looking at Tom contemplatively.

"Why?" Tom asked eyebrow raised.

"Fear, they choose to gain power and keep it through _fear_." Harry said snorting.

Tom felt genuinely confused, fear seemed to work well in keeping control of the orphanage and getting them special privileges. "What wrong with ruling using fear?" he asked because Tom figured this was one of those things he just couldn't understand. Fear after all, was a great motivator from what he had experienced and so he was confused about the point Harry was trying to make.

Harry flopped back onto the bed and looked at the ceiling in silent contemplation, "The problem with ruling using fear is that it makes your power base uneasy. When people are 'loyal' because they are afraid of their leader…well they are more easily turned into working for the enemy. People like feeling safe, even if that safety is a false veneer, and if they are afraid eventually they will rise up together to face that fear." She said as she picked up his glass rose to study it.

"If they are afraid why would they try to rise up?" Tom asked lying down beside her.

"Well, one can only be truly afraid for only so long. Eventually that sharp paralyzing fear fades into an angry cornered fear of a frightened animal, and cornered animals lash out. So if I wanted to rule the world, _and keep my throne_, I'd make the population think it was _**their**_ idea to put me in power. That I had my position thrust upon me, not that I set out to do it but through seeming happenstance it happened." Harry said as she rolled the stem of the rose between her fingers.

"I agree that might be the preferable route but how would you go about doing it?" Tom asked as he turned onto his side so that he could study her face.

"Well, first I would make a name for myself. Through innovation or invention, become a household name held in high regard. People would trust me because they would think they _knew_ me." She said as she turned to face him laying the rose between them.

"Yes and then?" Tom asked urging her forward.

"Once my image and reputation were well known, I would start a program of some sort that would greatly benefit society. Off the top of my head I could think of one, the magical world doesn't seem to start their schooling until their children are eleven so there seems to be a distinctive lack of primary schools. I would have to research it more but if one were to start a primary school were learning was easily accessible…well the way into favor seems to be in molding the future generations." Harry said, "Not only would the school boost my favor with the populous but it would give me free access to their children. Children who could be persuaded to a certain way of thinking while they are still young enough easily impressionable." Harry said.

Tom looked at Harry possessively, this is why no one else would ever come close to touching them…this is why he would rule the world someday. Harry who understood things he could not and tell him how to get himself into a position of power relatively easily. Tom would have to dedicate himself to figuring out what was wrong with the wizarding world. What people _wanted_ to see change, which group felt neglected, and therefore easily manipulated.

**~Harry~**

Harry wasn't sure what she was doing was the best idea in world to tell an aspiring Dark Lord but she couldn't help herself. The truth of the matter was that the magical world had a lot that needed to be fixed, and it wasn't getting any better with the system they had now. Tom wanted power, there would be no dissuading him of that but the way he gained that power…there was room for change there. Tom was looking at her strangely but it let Harry know that Tom was actually listening to what she was saying.

"I think that to be a _true _Dark Lord, you shouldn't reveal what you are to the world…no… a true Dark Lord would take over and no one would even notice." Harry said deliberately. Tom smirked at her, "Seems like you put some thought into this," he teased. "Of course, you want to rule the world don't you?" Harry said innocently.

Tom kissed her again, quick as lightening, "I am beginning to see why people like this kissing thing…it is…a satisfying form of expression," he said as he grabbed another book. This one was about Transfiguration Theory and was interesting enough Tom started to read it. Harry grabbed the last one for herself to see what it was and join Tom in reading. When she opened the tattered and worn book all she saw at first were wiggling lines. Then she blinked as English slowly appeared forming out of the wiggling lines.

_Parseltongue_.

It was odd that she had it again in this body, when she had discovered that she had shared that trait with Tom again a few years ago it had brought up a lot of question. Harry always had a minor ability to understand Parseltongue in all her lives…it was her ability to _speak _it that changed. Parseltongue was a hereditary gift after all and without the body already having the potential for it Harry couldn't speak it. This body had the ability but it brought up a lot of questions on who her body had been before Harry had become her.

As far as Harry had know only the Gaunts, direct descendents of Salazar Slytherin had the ability and the only one her age was Tom Riddle whose mother was Merope Gaunt. So who was her body? She read the book slowly, it was written by a man…that much was clear and it appeared to be a mix of a diary and a grimoire. The first few pages were of useless musing, mostly philosophy, random thoughts, random facts she already knew…no real details on who the author was and then Harry stumbled upon a curious passage.

_My grandmother was a Squib from the Gaunt line, cast out for inability to speak Parseltongue or cast magic. My grandfather married her for reasons unclear to everyone at the time. Morganna Gaunt was no great beauty and he hardly knew her for more than a day before their marriage. It was a scandal because he had abandoned his marriage contract to do it. I find it ironic that just two generations later the truth of my grandfather's wise choice is apparent for all to see. I, Salazar Selwyn, am a Parseltongue. An ability that the Gaunts had so jealously guarded for their own family is now in another line. _

Harry laid their stunned, read the passage again, dropped the book onto her chest and stared at the ceiling completely taken by surprise. There were two lines, _**two**_, that had the ability in England…how had she never known this. Tom saw her stumped expression and put his book down, "What is it?" he asked lightly. Harry wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, Tom would figure out anyway…and it _was _his book. So she flipped the journal to the first page where the author ranted about Parseltongue and laid back in stunned silence.

Tom read it hungrily, flipping through the pages devouring the information provided until he go to the same passage that had stumped her. "_**~Parseltongue, this is called Parseltongue~**_" Tom hissed, "_**~Only two lines have it Harry, only two, Gaunts and Selwyn. We must be of one of those lines!~**_" Harry looked at him and thought about what she should say to him.

"_**~We can't know that for sure, this book was obviously written some time ago…centuries if the dates are to believed~**_" Harry said tapping the corner were a date had been scribbled in, "_**~The Selwyns were the first to gain it…who is to say that other families have not done the same? Until we have researched the lines more…until we find out for sure…then we cannot know~**_" Harry said sighing deeply. It was the truth; if her body had the ability that did not mean that she was a descendent from either line…it only meant that she had a starting point.

Tom's face was carefully blank, "You're right, of course you're right, and it was foolish of me to run away with myself. It doesn't matter anyway, no one of either of these lines has come for us and so they have not claimed us as their own. We don't need them, we don't need anyone," Tom sneered as he tossed the book away from him and pressed his face into Harry's neck.

"One day I'll make them sorry for abandoning us," Tom whispered into her ear. "One day I'll make them pay," he said as his long fingered hand grabbed her hand, "You'll help me, do it, you'll be my side _**~forever~**_ Harry, it'll always only be the two of us…no one else matters." He hissed as he gripped her tightly.

Harry wasn't sure what she was supposed to say, and she wrapped her arms around Tom. "_**~Yesss…forever…~**_" she agreed even though she wasn't sure she could keep such a promise. Tom pressed against her reminding Harry that for all Tom was a genius…he was still an eleven year old boy that needed her as much as she needed him. She would think about the rest later.

**~Tom~**

Johann Pachelbel's Canon in D major was a popular piece lately and Tom had to agree that when Harry played it…the tones were soothing. There was only a month left, soon they would be getting on a train and leaving all this behind for a time. Harry had of course booked them solid for the winter and summer holidays so they wouldn't lose too much by going to school. It seemed that now that they only had a limited time that along with their popularity had made it easier to demand higher prices.

They were a product in demand, and Tom had to say he enjoyed working less while gaining more. Harry swayed as she played, lost in the rhythm of the song and paying no one any attention. Over the last few months they had learned so much about magic and the world they were joining. Not all of what they had found had been good. In the view of the magical world they would be muggleborns, the lowest of the low and that was not something either enjoyed finding out.

Harry had been surprised to learn that females were not held at a lower standard…per say…even the current Minister was a woman. No, females could climb high in the magical society…could own property and be heirs…if they were of pure blood. Pure bloods could do so much more than a Muggle born could ever hope to just because they had a lineage that was magical. Well, technically Tom suspected Harry and him were half-bloods however, they lacked the proof to say that.

The weight of his wand against his forearm reminded him that none of it mattered. No matter what they thought, no matter what they said, Tom knew the truth...they were all born to bow before them. Soon enough they would be taking the first steps into this new world and they would make it their own before long. Tom would discover the secret to immortality, and with it he would ensure that Harry would never leave his side…that he would never die.

**~Harry~**

The sight of the Hogwarts Express did strange things to her stomach as she entered the train her thoughts were in the past…or the future. Tom had insisted they arrive early so there were very few people here and the ones that were had already settled into their preferred cabins. Harry thought the quiet was eerie and it reminded her of a very real truth…nothing was as it once was. Tom chose their cabin and unshrunk their trunks from his pocket before he pulled out two books from his expanded bag.

He handed her The Beginners Guide to Brewing and kept Alchemy: A Dying Art for himself. Harry sat down beside him mechanically, this was it, there was no going back now and she adjusted her tie thoughtlessly. She was wearing the boy's uniform but Harry had no plans on pretending to be a boy anymore. Instead she would just let people decide for themselves which gender she possessed as she truly didn't care what anyone thought.

The boy's uniform was much more comfortable than the girl's and she had search the Hogwarts bylaws carefully…nowhere did it say a girl had to wear a _girl's uniform_ only that the uniform was a required dress during class hours. Tom had thought it prudent that they wear their uniforms to the station and just put on their robes once they got closer to Hogwarts. Harry wondered who they might run into, if a Malfoy would show up to sneer at them or (her heart squeezed) maybe a Black.

The parents of some of the people she had know, some of the people she had known as well, would be attending Hogwarts with them. Hagrid would be there, McGonagall, _Snape's mother_, Sirius _mother_, people she had heard of when she had been The Man-who-won. How would it be seeing those people…seeing them so young…seeing the features of someone she had loved on another's face? Harry opened her book to distract herself from her painful thoughts.

Her eyes wandered from the half read page to Tom's handsome face as he calmly read the advanced text in his hands. How would Tom do it? She wondered. Slytherin was a hostile place for perceived Muggle borns…how would Tom turn scorn into admiration? Hate into worship? Not only for his own house but for every other house as well. It was amazing to think about; Tom had been widely loved and admired while he had attended Hogwarts. Charming to a frightening degree and only Dumbledore had seen past that charm.

Would it be different with her there? Would Tom forget about her? Harry didn't know because for all of Tom's possessiveness Harry knew he did not _love_ her…and in fact he could not even if he had wanted to. Love was something Tom could never understand, something he could not grasp in spite of his vast intelligence, because something inside of him was broken. Harry wasn't sure if Tom would forget her if he got swept away in the admiration of other people.

Harry wasn't sure how long she could survive Hogwarts anyway, the first life she had attended that school had not been an easy one. She remembered all the close calls…all the times in which she had almost died while attending and sighed. If this time was anything like her time as the Boy-who-lived then Harry would have to resign herself to dying early again. The thought was more frightening than it had ever been…_leave Tom_? Harry had somehow managed to keep her sanity somewhat intact through all of her life cycles but she wasn't so sure how she would manage without Tom.

Stuck in a desolate loop, unable to escape…unable to mourn…her life stretching out before her in endless loneliness…Harry shivered. Those thoughts were the ones that madness laid in wait and she turned from them. Tom hadn't known himself to be handsome before she had told him he was…Tom had not known that he was grace incarnate. Harry knew that Tom would not abandon her for the simple fact that she saw him as he was…and had not turned from him.

**~Tom~**

Tom had directed his magic to black the door and make sure no one noticed it. As advantageous it would have been to make connection on the train while heading to their new school Tom had found his patience thin today and the last thing he needed was to get kicked out for hurting some pure blood snob. Harry had drifted off a little while ago and Tom was enjoying the feel of her resting her head on his shoulder. It was a strange thing…enjoying someone's touch…and Tom had yet to get used to the feelings Harry invoked with her casual physical affection.

Tom's eyes drifted to the window and the scenery speeding by as the train made its way to their new school. Tom had always been of the mind that love was a useless thing…something that was fickle and fleeting…well beneath him. Tom's had unconsciously found its way into Harry's hair and he reveled in the silky feel of it against his fingers. Harry's hair was barely brushing her shoulders but Tom always imagined that if she grew it out it would be like living flame.

Love…Tom wasn't so sure what love was anymore. He had once thought that love was something that didn't exist…that it was a made up word people used to make themselves feel better about being alone. Now…after living with Harry for so long…Tom wasn't sure what he thought about love anymore. Harry had tried to explain the concept but Tom had yet to grasp any real meaning in her nonsensical words. The closest Harry had come to explaining love in a way Tom understood had sounded flat even to his ears.

She had told him love was a powerful motivator…that unlike _hate_ which was a paralytic love…love moved people to do strange and sometimes extraordinary things. Then of course Harry had told him that love can destroy one as easily as it could save one. Tom wasn't sure he understood her meaning but he had tired…that was more than he had ever done before. Tom looked at Harry's peaceful face…innocent in sleep…absent the haunting sadness that drew him in like a moth to the flame.

Her hand was still on her pocket where her small knife laid and Tom felt something squeeze inside of him. It was odd…how…painful…it was thinking about the horrors Harry must have lived through to gain such weariness. Harry was _**his**_ and no one should be allowed to break _**his **_things. Tom smoothed the hair out of Harry's face and then forced himself to look away. Tom freely admitted it was unlikely he would ever love anything or anyone…he didn't understand emotions such as love well enough to _**feel**_ it.

However, if he was to every love anything…Tom supposed it would be Harry. It wasn't because Harry was useful…that she was powerful…it was not even that he felt an obsessive _need_ to _**own**_ her…no it was none of those things. Tom supposed if he could love he would love Harry because when she looked at him she saw _him_ and did not turn away. Harry knew him better than anyone ever would and she did so with an ease that Tom almost found frightening. Harry, without magic…without him having to say a word…seemed to understand him in his entirety.

Tom knew that he was not a good person…that he was a devil in human skin…that no one could ever love him…but sometimes…when Harry looked at him…he almost believed she did. Harry never flinched from him, never wavered, even when it was obviously how monstrous he was Harry stood beside him unafraid. Harry was smart enough to be cautious around him…she seemed to know when he was in one of 'his moods' as she called it and gave him his space. Yet…Harry had never tried to run away from him…Harry had stood between Dumbledore and him. Harry had demanded Dumbledore 'back off' and she had almost seemed…protective…it had made him feel strange.

The train was beginning to slow so Tom woke Harry and they both dressed in their robes. Tom made sure he had Harry's hand firmly in his own before they joined the crush of students leaving the train. A wild looking old man called out for first years to follow him before he hobbled down the path the opposite the older years had begun to walk down. Tom waited until the crowd had mostly thinned out before he tugged Harry along after him down the path the other first years were walking.

The way was slippery and Tom used Harry's trick with her so they were actually gliding a few millimeters from the ground so they didn't have to deal with it. It was a bit like the magic they used to fly but it was less draining along with having the pleasant side effect of allowing them to move with inhuman grace. "No more th'n 'our ter a boat." The old man grunted as he stepped into a rickety wooden 'boat'.

Tom was sure calling those _things_ boats was a far stretch for the word but nonetheless stepped into one with Harry without ever making it move. The others weren't so lucky and one mousy looking boy managed to dump himself and three others into the lake before the boats moved out. Tom barely spared a glance at the two that had joined them in the boat and instead kept his eye on the horizon. He was one of the first to see the castle…it was _impressive_ and Tom felt smug that this was _**his**_ school now.

The old man brought them to a hall where Dumbledore was waiting for them smiling creepily. The man's auburn hair clashed horribly with his bright purple robes that had little cows jumping over crescent moons and Tom barely held back a sneer in disgust. Harry's hand tightened over his own and Tom managed to school his face into a politely interested mask. Dumbledore greeted them with unnecessary warmth, "Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! I am Professor Dumbledore, your deputy Headmaster and Transfiguration professor. In a moment we will be joining the others in the great hall where all meals will be served." He said smiling.

As the man went on to explain the houses and points system Tom tuned it out having already found out about both things from Hogwarts, A History. Harry didn't seem interested in listening to him either and instead nudged him to point out the pale silvery silhouettes that were floating through the way. Tom decided he didn't much care for Ghost…they were reminders that death came to call on all and Tom had no intention of answering.

The other students had varying reactions to the ghosts from none at all (pure bloods) to screaming/crying (muggle borns). Dumbledore settled them down before things got out of hand and led them into the great hall. Tom was interested in the enchanted ceiling, the layers of magic on it were fascinating to feel and he wanted to see about trying to reproduce the effects on day. The older students looked at the new arrivals like one would observe an animal in a zoo and Tom didn't particularly care for the feeling.

Tom barely paid any attention to the sorting since he doubted that knowing every single student's name would be any benefit to him and only started paying attention when it looked like it was getting closer to his turn. "Eileen Prince," Dumbledore called out and a well dressed girl walked primly up to the stool. Her dark hair and eyes contrasted against her very pale skin. If it wasn't for her rather unfortunate slightly overlarge nose Tom would have been inclined to say she was attractive enough.

"Slytherin!" the hat called out. The girl seemed pleased as she sent just as primly to her new house. Soon Dumbledore was calling out, "Tom Riddle," and Tom gave Harry's hand a parting squeeze. As he sat on the stool he looked right into Harry's eyes, they had discussed it many times and Harry knew that whatever house Tom was placed in…Harry was expected to follow. Otherwise there would be consequences.

"_Interesting…very interesting…you will go far Mr. Riddle…greatness awaits you…yes…there is only one house that will suit you…_SLYTHERIN!" it called out. Tom was met with a rather lack luster applause from his new house but Tom had been expecting such a reaction. He would have to make his position as the top of his year group quickly otherwise it would take longer than he wanted to convert the upper years to his way of thinking. Tom sat down at the empty space that seemed reserved for first years and tracked Harry with his eyes.

"Harry Vedette," Dumbledore called out and Tom watched eagerly as she sat on the stool. The hat took longer on her than any other person it had placed yet but it eventually called out "Slytherin," to Tom's smug satisfaction. Harry joined him easily and then they listened to Headmaster Dippet make his announcement. A feast appeared before them and Tom stared at it for a long time trying to find something he could eat.

The issue with living in the orphanage was that they hadn't gotten too much variety in the food they ate. While this wasn't a real issue, Tom who had eaten the same menu all his life had found out that he could not stomach a lot of foods. When Harry had first started buying them food with the money they had earned Tom had been eager to try out new things. However, his stomach was unaccustomed to eating such things and he had ended up slightly sick from it.

Sweets were a big problem for him, spicy things and things that were very heavy on favoring were unpleasant also. Harry seemed to know what he was thinking because she filled their plates with plain chicken, some steamed vegetables, and plain mash potatoes no butter or seasoning. Tom simply began eating ignoring the stares they both were receiving for being the 'mudbloods' in the predominately 'pureblood' house. They would know soon enough that he wasn't to be trifled with and that their place was groveling at their feet. Tom smirked and Harry hid a smile by placing some chicken delicately in her mouth.

**A.N.: Hogwarts at last! XD lol this chapter was surprisingly harder to write! Thanks for all your wonderful reviews guys! I know I have some typos/grammar errors but please forgive I am without a beta…lol and I suck at editing my own work! XP Please Read AND Review! It gives me the motivation to update faster! Lol I want to give a special thanks to VampierYuki who has sent me some FANTASTIC AWESOME AMAZING BREATHTAKING fan art! I have a link to one she has posted up on Deviantart on my profile if anyone wants to check it out! I highly recommend it! VampierYuki YOU ROCK! XD ! Fan girl Squeal lol **


	7. Steps Taken

**A.N.: I got a beta! lol thanks again bex5959! You're awesome! XD**

**Chapter 7: Steps Taken**

"**Being smart takes patience. Being wise takes pain. Being apathetic takes practice. Being in love takes everything...away."****  
****―****Dave Matthes**

**~Harry~**

Harry filled Tom's and her plate full of the simplest food she could find. It would hopefully not hurt their stomachs too much but they would find out later if she had miscalculated. She saw the calculating glint in Tom's eye as he pointedly ignored the less than subtle glares being sent their way and hid a smile. Harry was too distracted by her conversation she had with the sorting hat to invest her time to pay attention to anything else.

…_most forget, even those born into this magical world…that magic makes everything __**possible**__ and that there are no limits to it…just one's imagination…the solution to your problem might not be so far out of reach as you seem to think…you have lived many lives…I wonder Miss Vedette…what house would suit you now…_

Magic was something that was hard to define…they gave it limits and rules so they could try to understand it. Just as humans had done with time, they had taken a set of natural occurrences and gave it rules. Magic was more than what they would be taught in Hogwarts…it was beyond their understanding. Even Harry, after countless lives, was no closer to understanding magic and life any more than when she had been the man-who-won.

Life and magic were more than she could understand. How she had not gone mad from the weight of her lives Harry was not sure, but she did know that with every life something of herself changed deeply. Tom was proof enough of that. Harry knew that if she had woken up so close to Tom when this first happened that her reaction to him would have been very different. Harry doubted she would have taken Tom's possessiveness as calmly as she did now.

Harry also knew that had she still been as young and as foolish as she had once been that Tom probably would not have shown so much…not emotion, but…something. Harry supposed she could have been angry, could have let the tragedies that were her lives make her some depressed psychopath…but she was too weary for that. The truth was that sometimes life was hard…sometimes bad things happened to you without you ever doing anything to deserve it…but it _**didn't have to define you**_.

If Harry dwelled in all the horrible things she had been through and did mental tallies on how much more she has suffered in comparison to other people…well she would be miserable. Why would she do that to herself? When it was so clear that every moment she was breathing was precious? When every happy moment had to be treasured and protected? It was too easy to sink into the 'pity me' mindset…but where would that get her?

Would holding all that pain, all that anger, all that _hate_, help her? No, it would only make sure she obsessed over bad things. Yes, Harry was wary of people and what they were inclined to do to her…yet…she was also thankful of every good moment. Petty things like bullying, or being hurt by others…well in the grand scheme of things didn't matter too much. There was always another bully, another villain, but how many moments did you get with the one you loved?

Harry had loved many people, of both genders, and she found that love…well love changed everything. It wasn't some idiotic belief that love conquered all or that love would save anyone. Harry believed that if you loved someone…really loved them…it made your life light up in a way that very little else did. Love wasn't the cure for the evil of the world…it made enduring that evil worth it. It was worth the struggle of back breaking work if your daughter came running to you when you got home with a smile. It was worth being killed by bigoted people for those moments spent wrapped in the arms of the woman you loved but society didn't want you to love. Whether that was because the color of your skin was 'offensive' or that you were the same gender.

It was worth suffering the greatest pains in the world if you could experience the _bliss_ of true love captured in a few perfect moments. At least, it was for Harry. When she had endured that first childhood as the boy-who-lived so devoid of love…well she had come to appreciate what love could do for you. _…it's alright to love him...you know…love exists beyond that place called good or evil…love is more than that…_ The sorting hat's words rang through her mind as she looked over at Tom.

The truth of it was…as much as she knew love could cross every boundary…that to love there was no limit…that love could change everything about you…Harry hadn't considered that she could come to **love** Tom. For so long she had been caught up in her own pain, in her own helplessness, that she had forgotten her hard won lessons…she had forgotten the small wisdom she had gained over her lives. Tom had been a desperate bid for some happiness because in the lives she had awakened as a child…well…she had never lasted long.

Even now there was that nagging weariness that made her anticipate an imminent death. Harry had never managed to squeeze much happiness out of the lives she had awakened as a child because she was usually so…vulnerable. Yet, here and now…somehow in a hopeless place…she had found love. Her eyes darted to Tom before settling back on her plate and almost without thinking she changed the hand she was eating with, slipping her hand into Tom's.

Harry could admit it to herself now…she loved Tom Riddle…homicidal tendencies and all. It was quite a startling discovery…he had been her enemy once…and now he was something more than that. Tom might not ever be capable of loving her in return…but that didn't matter to her much. Love, real love, made you forget selfish notions of wanting something in return…real love was selfless and kind. Loving Tom meant accepting that he might never know how to love her in return…but that was okay. Her love for him would have to be enough. Harry reached out with her magic and wrapped it around Tom causing him to look at her. She smiled and sent a single thought to him, _I love you_, then she went back to eating. Leaving Tom wide eyed for a second before he turned his attention back to his food with a strange look on his face.

**~Wimble~ **

Wimble twisted her floppy ears and bounced from foot to foot in anxiety. She was not sure what she was supposed to do in this situation. She was the house elf assigned to set up the new Slytherin students dorms, but there was a problem. There was one student she wasn't sure where to place and Hogwarts wasn't helping her. Harry Vedette's magic was feminine, but the soul imprint on the trunk was very masculine. Hogwarts hadn't revealed a new room for either gender so this trunk was just there…without a place to put it.

She didn't have a choice, she popped over to Professor Sluggy at the head table making sure to not disturb anyone else. "Professor Sluggy," she began. The wizard jumped and looked behind him at her in a mix of curiosity and annoyance. "Get on with it elf," he grunted. "Professor Sluggy…Wimble doesn't be knowing where to place Harry Vedette's things…Vedette a girl or boy?" she asked.

Slughorn looked confused before he turned his attention to one of the latest additions to his house and found himself stumped. He couldn't remember if Harry had been wearing a skirt or not since he hadn't been paying the sorting too much attention there at the end. The uniforms tops were all sadly the same across both genders and he couldn't see beyond that from his seat. Harry was young enough that he wasn't so sure on looks alone either having seen both pretty boys and handsome girls come through these walls.

"Ahhh, that is to say…we'll sort this out after the feast elf, now off with you," Slughorn said at a loss on what to do. This hadn't happened before and he wasn't too clear on how to politely ask for one's gender. Wimble popped away in distress and almost cried. Why did humans have to be so hard to distinguish? Boy, girl, they all looked the same to an elf and so deciding on how to address each was usually left to what impression the magic/soul gave. This is the first time that Wimble had come across a human that had two conflicting signs…a feminine magic signature but a masculine soul.

**~Tom~**

_I love you_, what could Harry have been thinking? Telling him such things placed him off balance and Tom knew he needed to be strong to establish his place in this house. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the look of annoyance on their housemate's faces and forced himself to keep his face blank. Pure bloods it seemed were not used to being ignored…perhaps that was how he would gain power here? Tom knew how much being ignored irritated him and how much children typically yearned for acknowledgement.

Tom had been giving it some thought these past few months about how much of their proficiency in wielding their magic they should show. From what they could gather from the books they had searched through, doing wandless magic was unheard of at their age…at least _controlled_ wandless magic. It just proved what Tom knew all along…even in this magical world…the two of them were _**special**_. Tom's eyes were calculating as he took in the people surrounding him.

He ignored the Headmaster as he made announcements signaling the end of the meal as the desserts disappeared. Tom held Harry close as they followed the older students down to their dorm rooms. Love, Harry _loved_ him. Tom wasn't sure what that meant for him, but it might be easier to keep Harry confined to his side now that she loved him. From what he understood, love made people do very foolish things for the object of their affections.

Tom smirked, it was nice having such power over someone as powerful as Harry…the only person in the world Tom was sure almost reached his level. Tom was quite certain that now that Harry loved him he would be able to do whatever he wished to her…because that was what happened when you loved someone else. You gave that person power over you. Tom was actually quite smug that Harry loved him…because he wouldn't have to pretend to love her in return. Harry knew him well enough to see through such a ruse and Harry was perhaps the only person who didn't care whether he returned her sentiment or not.

The older student had lead them to a blank stretch of wall that's only distinguishing mark was a small (almost undetectable) snake carved into a brick three rows from the ground. "The password is _Draconis_," the older boy said as the wall fell away much like the wall at the entrance to Diagon Alley. He led the students inside and then turned to them, "First years stay here, the rest of you are free to go," he said stiffly.

The crush of the other students slowly filtered out, some went to their rooms, some lounged on the few couches the common room provided and a few sat by the fire chatting quietly. A pudgy man with a firm round belly came through the entrance a few minutes later and smiled at them jovially. "Hello students, I am Professor Slughorn, I will be your potions professor, and I am your Head of House. I have a few announcements to make before I can let you go to sort yourselves out so if you would be so kind as to find a seat," Slughorn said gesturing to the small collection of chairs that appeared behind them.

Tom took a seat that was at the end of the row and had Harry sit on his other side to act as a buffer. Tom didn't like the idea of anyone touching him…even if by accident. "Now that we are all settled, I shall begin, first let me welcome to the house of Slytherin. We are a house of the cunning and ambitious…as such I expect a certain amount of decorum for each of my students. In public we _**always present a united front**_, I don't care what disagreements come up, you are to settle differences between housemates only within the dorm and away from prying eyes. Consequences for _not_ following this rule are severe and decidedly unpleasant, so I suggest you not test my patience," Slughorn said warningly.

"Now moving on to more pleasant conversation, as first years you are only expected to do the core curriculum and will not have to sign up for electives until your third year. However, that is not to say you cannot sign up for more classes," Slughorn motioned to the older boy who began passing out sheets of parchment. "Before you is a list of electives only offered to first and second years. You can of course choose to continue on the subject after your second year but you will still be expected to choose other courses as well. As Slytherins I expect you to choose a minimum of _two_ courses in which you would like to sign up for. I will need your answers in two days time so choose quickly," Slughorn said as he stood pompously before them like a king addressing his subjects.

"Classes for first years do not officially begin until three days from now but that is not to say your time is your own during that time. There is a set of mandatory short courses you will be attending at that time. Among them is a health course with our school nurse, a muggleborn introductory course, a refinement course, and an introduction to magical culture course. I realize that much of you already have a firm understanding on what you will be taught in these courses but they are mandatory for _everyone_. If I find you have skipped _**any **_of these assigned courses I will assure you that you will find your punishment decidedly _disagreeable_," he said seriously as he stared down at them. They collectively nodded in agreement, though Tom merely stared him down in return.

"Now onto your sleeping arrangements, Slytherin is the only dorm where you will have the privilege of having your own room and bathing area. Since we are in the lower levels of Hogwarts we have the luxury of spreading out much further than your unfortunate peers. We do have assigned sleeping quarters though, boys are to the right, and girls are to the left. The rooms are arranged so that the oldest students are the ones closest to the common room and descending in age your room will be the furthest ones out. Slytherin designed it that way so that if in the event that Hogwarts be invaded and the dorm compromised, the older students could protect the younger ones. This means the rooms closest to the common room are a _privilege and a __**responsibility**_. You will find prefects in the three closest rooms as such, so should you need anything you know where to go to seek assistance," Slughorn said, gesturing to the old boy beside him and to himself.

"Slytherin was the most cunning and wise of all the founders. He prepared for every possibility, and he chose the location of the Slytherin dorms for a reason as well as the layout of the dorm as well. The dorm is located well within the Labyrinth that is the dungeons; it is very easy to get lost for days if one is not careful. As such for the first few months all first years are expected to be guided by a prefect to and from the dorms in the morning and evening. Please don't be foolish and think that you can find your way on your own. Your rooms are likewise laid out in a labyrinth like style; however since it is on a much smaller scale you are expected to figure your way to and from your room on your own," Slughorn said, gesturing to the two entrances to the dorm rooms.

"I will be meeting up with you all individually two months from now to assess how you are adjusting to your work load and to evaluate your progress. As Slytherins I expect you to do well, anyone slacking in their work will answer to me and trust me when I say you do not want to have that conversation with me. I will drop into the common room from time to time to address you all, in three days time I will meet you all first thing in the morning with your class schedules for the year…so wake early. Now, I am sure you all are exhausted from your travels so you are dismissed so that you might situate your sleeping arrangements," he said easily. "Mr. Riddle, Vedette, a word if you please," Slughorn said before they could slip away.

Tom scowled, somehow Tom thought that they would take exception to Harry sleeping in his room but that mattered very little to him. Harry was his, she slept with him, that was final and that was not negotiable. Slughorn smiled at them and took them off to a quiet corner. "Now there has been some confusion over your sleeping arrangements I'm afraid, Vedette, you see the house elves and indeed even Hogwarts were confused over your gender. Nothing to be concerned over, these things happen from time to time, and all you need to tell me is where you would be most comfortable. I am afraid that until I can get you a room you will have to share with someone," Slughorn said gently.

It was very hard to resist the urge to scoff at the man; he was very obviously trying to avoid asking for Harry's gender directly no doubt afraid to be rude. "Harry will share with me, there is no need to see about getting another room since we are accustomed to sharing. It would be odd to stop now," Tom said decisively and Harry nodded along.

"Oh, well that settles things then. Should you desire your own room in the future Mr. Vedette, you only need to say the word and I shall arrange for it," Slughorn said smiling and nodding glad to have resolved the issue so smoothly. "Now off to bed both of you, there will be an early health course tomorrow morning and I expect you two to be well rested for it," he said dismissing them easily.

**~Harry~**

Harry couldn't help but be amused that she had been mistaken for a boy by the majority of people. They found their room with little trouble and were pleased by what they found. It was more spacious than their room at the orphanage and the bed was much larger. The bed was a four poster, beside it was a wardrobe, on the other side was a desk with a bookshelf and their trunks were at the end of the bed. The bathing room was small but it would do fine. They hadn't had a bathing room of their own yet so it was a nice treat.

They got dressed for bed, laying out their clothes for tomorrow and putting their dirty clothes in the hamper by the wardrobe. The bed was soft, softer than either of them was used to so it took a while for them to get comfortable but once they did they fell asleep quickly. They woke the next morning just as easily and quickly got ready for the day. The made it out to the common room and were surprised to find they weren't the first ones there. Another first year girl was already waiting with the prefect assigned to them today.

Harry supposed that she should try to learn all their names, but then again it had gotten surprisingly hard for her to remember names of people that didn't really matter to her. Harry thought it might have to do with living so many lives and meeting so many different people. It made it hard for her to remember people that weren't significant. Besides, it was a bit of a waste of her time because Harry was always expecting to be killed fairly soon, so why bother?

Tom was silent as usual, he wasn't a morning person and Harry was amused to see he hadn't quite woken all the way yet. She sort of wanted to see if any of the others would try to talk to him…they would be in for a rude surprise if they did. Eventually the rest of their year mates were gathered and then they made their way to the great hall. Harry made sure to stick with plain eggs and dry toast for the both of them, feeling a bit sick looking at the greasy breakfast meat.

At the orphanage meat was usually reserved for the evening meal, and breakfast was usually oatmeal or creamed cereal of some sort. They got egg on holidays sometimes, but looking at the selection before them was a bit nauseating. Sticky syrups, greasy meats, loaded eggs, potatoes, and it was all so heavily seasoned that the smell was burning her nose. She didn't even want to know how Tom was handling this because his stomach was even more sensitive than her own.

Harry hoped that by the end of their Hogwarts years that Tom would be better adjusted and then she stopped that train of thought. She didn't even know if she would last that long and making plans for that far out only led to earth shattering heart break. Another prefect came by to guide them to their first course class in the hospital wing and Harry was startled to realize she didn't remember the way. It shouldn't have been a surprise to her, it had been many, many, years since she had stepped foot into Hogwarts but somehow it still threw her off balance.

Seeing Madam Pomfrey looking much (_much) _younger than Harry had ever imagined her ever being didn't help Harry any either. Part of the hospital wing had been converted over to something of a class room setting with a few rows of chairs facing a blank board. She made sure they were all seated before she started to address them, Harry was momentarily distracted by the fact that her hair was _blonde_ and not white from age.

"In this health course we will be discussing certain, shall we say _sensitive_ things, and I will not tolerate giggles, whispering, rude gestures, interruptions, or irrelevant questions. I will warn you only once and then I will silence and bind you. Understood?" She asked glaring at each of them in turn. They all just nodded quickly and Harry wondered if she had missed something important. What the hell was this class about?

Madam Pomfrey stood before them stiffly. "We will start with the most important facts about how children are conceived and move on to hygienic spells," she said very properly and Harry almost choked going very wide eyed. Tom smirked at her but then paled as Pomfrey's lecture went on. Harry wasn't embarrassed per se, it was more that she learned things in that hour that she had rather not known and things she was surprisingly shocked by.

Three boys and one girl managed to receive the silencing/binding treatment by the end of the mechanical…uh description…of intercourse. "Now on to the most important facts about losing your virginity as a magical being," Madam Pomfrey said stiffer than ever, "When a witch or wizard first loses their virginity it affects their magic. Whether the affect is favorable or not depends on the age of the participants. If your magical growth has not yet reached its peak, having intercourse can be very detrimental to you. There was a rash of wizards and witches turned near squib during the population booster year of 1695 where the ministry passed certain laws requiring them to try for conception too young," she said seriously.

"It was because of this that research on that field began, it was found in 1706 by Roderick Rosier that losing your virginity before your seventeenth year could be detrimental to your magical development. However, if virginity was lost in the seventeenth year, depending on a few other factors, it could result in a significant power boost that would last the rest of your life as opposed to slowly tampering off if done after the seventeenth year," Madam Pomfrey said.

"I hope I will not have to remind any of you later on that pursuing anything sexual with a partner before then is very ill advised and could be very harmful for you," she said, eyes narrowed on all of them. "Now onto contraceptive spells, their uses, their side effects, and applications," she said professionally. Tom was looking slightly ill and Harry wondered what had gotten to him more. The very _descriptive _explanation of how one had sex or the threat to his magic. Harry nearly laughed, who was she kidding, the magic thing was more pressing on Tom than the whole having sex thing. Harry did see that the discussion about sex had made him very uncomfortable though because Tom didn't like people touching him in general.

Harry also knew that Tom would be very uncomfortable with the entire notion since having intercourse made both parties very vulnerable to each other. The next three hours were just as uncomfortable as the rest; Madam Pomfrey was very thorough making sure they all knew how to cast all the simple spells she taught them. Including to Tom's mortification, how to place the charm that vanished a woman's monthly…time…and how to cast charms to relieve cramping. Harry still wondered about how wise it was to teach children how to do the magical equivalent of putting a condom on a man but it was interesting to say the least.

It was only after that Harry began to think about the strange differences between her life as the boy-who-lived in Hogwarts and now. For one thing there hadn't been any electives that Harry was aware of being offered to first and second years. If there had been, Harry was sure Hermione would have taken them in a heartbeat. These classes certainly hadn't been offered either because Harry still remembered the first 'talk' she had ever had on the subject. That hadn't happened until her fifth year as the boy-who-lived, and Hermione had not been as thorough about it as Madam Pomfrey had been about it. Hermione had discovered her ignorance on the subject and managed to get past the general idea of it all in a sputtering mess.

This brought to the forefront of his mind the question she had been contemplating for a while now…had she been stuck in alternate timelines, or was this something that had been abandoned by Hogwarts in the future? It was hard to tell because the girl named Harry hadn't existed the first time around so there was really no way to know. Did her being here change the future? If it did then how was she here in the first place? The questions kept pressing down on her and she was no closer to the answers. Tom pressed into her side eyes shifting suspiciously at everyone around them.

They made it to the great hall in good time and lunch was already underway. Seeing the rich food laid out before them reminded Harry that she needed to remember how to get into the kitchens again. Tom and her could not survive like this for long and it would not be good for either of them to eat something…unsettling. Classes needed to be picked and soon the year would be well underway. Harry wondered how they would handle the change, how they would handle the others, and where they would go from here. Because as much as she tried not to plan for too far ahead…Harry kept thinking about years with Tom before she caught herself.

Harry's hand tightened around Tom's, what would it be like…living with Tom after Hogwarts? Where would they go? What would they see? Would her being around change Tom…even if it was only in small ways…or would it all turn out the same as before? What would she do when her parents were born? What would she do when _she_ was supposed to be born? Because Harry was afraid of what could happen if she lived long enough to see her own birth as Harry Potter. The soul was not meant to inhabit two bodies at once…would she die painfully as he was born? Would her body as Harry Potter be born without a soul? Would her parents even get together? That was the thing about changing things…no matter how small, a single change could turn the course of history forever.

The most important question Harry needed to find the answer to was this…did she _**want**_ to change it all?

**A.N. Here it is! The much demanded update! Lol Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! You guys are seriously motivating! Thanks for giving my story a chance! On another note I am super excited to say that I will be launching my Kickstarter page for my children's book soon! Kickstarter dot com is a site where you can raise the funds you need for projects! I'm hoping to get enough support that I'll be able to print the first limited editions of my book myself before I send the work out to publishers! Super excited guys! Wish me luck! When I launch my page I'll put the link up on my profile so you guys can check it out! ^_^**


	8. Issues of Perception

**Chapter 8- Issues of Perception **

"**Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are."****  
****―****Niccolò Machiavelli**

**~Tom~ **

After three rather grueling days of introduction classes that were as dull as they were informative Tom was rather eager to begin the real coursework. He had picked the four most beneficial electives and had 'advised' Harry to choose the same ones. (Which Harry did because she loved him.) Along with Transfiguration, History, Charms, Herbology, Astronomy, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, they would be taking Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Languages, and Fencing. Needless to say their schedules were rather full and Tom was drawing up a time chart so that they could use their time to the most efficiency.

Their first three days in the Slytherin dorms were interesting, tense, but interesting. There was a general hostile air from their housemates that kept them in their room for the most part and made it hard to sleep. Harry had taken to warding their door pretty heavily at night and it was proven prudent when they stopped someone from breaking in…for nefarious reason no doubt. There had yet to be an open assault of them as no one wanted to invite Slughorn's wrath by breaking his 'united front' rule but Tom was cautious.

He knew from experience that if someone wanted to bring you harm they would in the most inventive ways. Harry stuck to his side like a shadow and everyone sneered at her more often than they did him. It seemed they mistook Harry's caution for cowardice and thought her too weak to defend herself without his aid. They were fools. However, an army of ants could take down a clever spider if they had the motivation and Tom knew they had to do a show of power soon.

They couldn't hold back, because if they did these ants would eat them alive. So as Tom sat in the front of their first _real_ class, Transfiguration, with Harry at his side he tuned out Dumbledore's lecture. They had already learned all the theory, no, what Tom was waiting for was the practical. After what seemed like ages Dumbledore started to pass out the matchsticks and somehow managed to make it so that they were the last to receive theirs.

Tom looked Harry in the eye and nodded his head silently conveying his intent. She looked torn for a moment before she nodded in agreement and they began their game. They tucked their wands into their holsters, attracting some attention and brought their matchsticks closer to them. Tom started first, a simple wave of his fingers and one matchstick was turned into a perfect needle. No words had been spoken, no wand waved, and yet there unerringly in front of him was a needle transformed from a matchstick.

Harry smiled at him and wiggled her pointer finger at one of her matchsticks turning it into a needle as well. Tom carefully kept his face blank of emotion as he watched the reactions his fellow students were having all around them. Tom decided to up the game and brought two matchsticks to him giving his hand an elegant wave. One matchstick turned into a needle the other a small metal toy soldier. Harry smirked at him as a sudden hush went over the crowd.

Dumbledore was distracted by a particularly frantic student that had managed to set her matchsticks ablaze and had yet to see them at their game. Harry took two matchsticks and made her own solider with its own needle sword. Then as one, as if they were playing with puppets on invisible strings Tom and Harry began to wiggle their fingers. Their toy metal soldiers came seemingly to life taking up their needle swords to duel one another.

Harry's toy soldier bowed with flourish, Tom's mimicked it with a more subdued air and then they began a mock battle using one hand each to manipulate their characters. Then Tom decided to be creative, turning a matchstick into a toy horse for his soldier to mount and making the needle sword a javelin. Harry quickly mimicked him and soon their toys were racing at each other from across their shared desk. It was in the middle of their mock battle that Dumbledore noticed the unsettling silence and moved to investigate.

When he came upon the mock battle between his two least favorite students he was stunned silent for a moment. Then sternly he said, "What is going on here?" Tom and Harry looked up at him for a moment before going back to their mock battle effectively ignoring him. This only served to make him a little angry and he waved his wand turning their toys back into matchsticks. Tom and Harry then looked back to at him slightly annoyed.

"Twenty points from Slytherin, each." He said severely, "It seems you were not paying attention to my introduction to this course. I stated very clearly that no matter what you think you may know, no matter how advanced you misguidedly think you are, all must start with the basics and I will not tolerate any tom foolery in my class. Congratulations you two will be the first to serve detention with me…for the next three days."

Tom felt sorely tempted to make this man hurt; he had no right to punish them simply because they were more powerful than the rest. "So we must suffer for these deficient cretins who can't even turn a matchstick into a needle?" he said in disbelief before Harry could stop him. Dumbledore looked thunderous, "Another two days for lip." He said before turning his attention back to the class to get them back to work. "And you will use your wands if you want credit for this class." Dumbledore said as he departed from them.

Harry grabbed Tom's arm before the boy could do anything foolish and simply urged him to take his wand out. Tom wasn't one that was easily overrun with emotion, having a very limited range he did feel, but he knew right then that he hated Dumbledore with a passion. In that moment Tom decided that no matter how many years it took he would break that man and strip him of all his power. Harry made a game of turning the matchsticks into as many different types of needles as they could manage and Tom was distracted from his thoughts of Dumbledore's total annihilation for a moment.

**~Harry~**

It was strange being in this castle once more. Everything was just as she remembered it but it was all so different at the same time. Maybe it was because it had been so very long since she had seen it that the halls seemed so much colder, that the castle was less awe inspiring and the feel of _home_ was absent. Harry felt Tom grip her hand tighter as they entered their next class and wondered at Dumbledore's attitude. He had not changed much from when she had first known him but Harry was certainly seeing him a different light.

Hell, Harry was seeing herself in a different light nowadays. People didn't change, but their experiences certainly shaped them. She was still rash, still head strong, still stubborn, those things about her had withstood the test of countless years but her experiences had certainly shaped her approach. Once more she marveled at Tom, at her love for her once hated enemy, and wondered what her past self might think of her now.

She didn't think she had changed much but still her past self would have trouble recognizing her and not only for the obvious reasons. Harry remembered how deeply she had hated Tom and despised everything he had stood for. Now, Harry looked back at her past self and wondered at her own stupidity. How could she have been so naïve? How could she have not seen the truth before her? How had she not seen it all? It was hard to think about the past now and it made her feel conflicted.

The hostile stares from her fellow house members kept her from fully relaxing and her memories of consistent danger her first time around at Hogwarts had her on edge. Hogwarts was not the 'safe' place she had viewed it as when she had first seen its battlements. It was hard for her to sleep when she was so on edge and borderline panicking from paranoia. It wasn't helping that she knew that eventually their fellow housemates will want to make an example of the 'mudbloods of Slytherin' and it would not be pretty.

Before Harry would not have had the motivation to fight them, because she had gotten so used to being beaten down by constant death that she would have just let it happen. Now it was different. Her eyes found Tom beside her and she felt her heart turn to steel. Now it was different because she had someone to protect, someone to fight for and it made all the difference in the world. She loved Tom and Harry had always been more inclined to fight to protect others than fight to protect herself.

It was hard to think about; it made her jumpy thinking about someone trying to hurt Tom over something that didn't really matter. It was all a matter of perception anyway; they saw them as Mudbloods, and not as what they really were. It was going to be a disaster when things finally exploded. The tension was mounting, every class they took Tom made a point to have them demonstrate ridiculously high skills and it added to the resentment. The glares were becoming harder with every passing day.

By the end of the week Slughorn was blatantly favoring the two of them in Potions and Harry could tell that soon their fellow Slytherins would have enough. Harry was surprised how easily she got used to being stared at again; it was like a familiar habit picked up again after years of avoidance. Hogwarts had always been the place where she was in danger, where stares and whispered always followed in her wake. People concentrated on Tom but she still got her fair share.

They thought they were prodigies, they whispered that Tom was a reincarnation of Merlin himself and there was a strange mixture of awe and resentment as they looked at them. Dumbledore was doing his very best to make Tom hate him and with every passing day Harry was beginning to resent him more. The good old memories of a friendly old man were being tainted and colored now by her experiences of him now. She knew that this Dumbledore wasn't the one she remember and that time had changed the man. That Dumbledore was young and foolish now.

Yet that resentment wasn't tempered by those thought because Dumbledore's behavior now colored his behavior in the future. The tension in their house mounted as Dumbledore's animosity for Tom spilled over to other Slytherins and Harry didn't know what she would do when it all blew up. It happened the first Saturday night after the feast. Tom had detoured to the library and they had come into the common room after everyone else had already settled in. The lower years were suspiciously absent, the prefects were all curiously gone and a group of upper years were waiting for them by the entrance.

Harry froze for only a moment, taking in the sight of their sneering faces and the wands in their hands. For a moment she wasn't facing down a group of petulant purebloods, for a moment an army of faces stood before her, her murderers from various lives stood before her sneering and looking at her with cold eyes. For one moment she saw her various violent deaths, saw her suffering under various hands and then the vision changed. Suddenly it wasn't her suffering…it was Tom and something inside her snapped. The words for various curses were barely being voiced on their tongues when Harry reacted.

Flinging her hand out she banished the entire group against the wall in a wave of pure magic that ripped their wands from their grasps. Tom was behind her, eyes narrowed, he took half of the group and pressed them down with his magic his only intention being pain. Tom's magic responded and his group screamed as the intent magic reacted to his call. Harry didn't even pause at their screams, her half of the group were on the ground and she moved to incapacitate them.

She moved to cripple, breaking the bones in their hands, arms and legs to keep them down. Those in her group screamed as well but it did little to settle her frayed nerves. When it was over and their attackers were a mess of groaning sniveling whimpers at their feet Harry was panting heavily with shaking hands. She wanted to kill them, she wanted to destroy them, and yet she knew that was not what Tom needed so it stayed her hand. Tom was smirking at her from across the room where his part of the group laid at his feet twitching and groaning.

Slowly other Slytherins trickled in from whatever hole they had been hiding in to see what had happened to the force that had been meant to show them their 'lesson'. Tom walked smoothly over to her and pulled her possessively to his side and somehow it crazily made Harry feel better. Then he turned his dark eyes to the gathering crowd around them with his expression perfectly blank. The entire room was so qquiet you could only hear breathing and the occasional groan of pain.

"In case any of you simpletons have failed to notice there is a new order within Slytherin, there has been since the moment we stepped off that rickety boat. It starts with the two of us at the top and everyone else beneath the ground we walk on in importance." Tom said and to make sure they got the point he stepped very purposely on one of the boys necks that was on the ground in pain. He applied just enough pressure to his foot to make it hard to breathe but not enough to choke him to death.

"What matters is power, a simple enough concept that everyone should be able to grasp it! We are powerful, you are weak, thus you will fall to your knees before us or you will be _put_ onto your knees. The former has a lot less pain involved I strongly suggest you do so now." Tom said cooly and slowly one by one the students dropped to their knees. One or two were slow to fall to their knees but the scattered group at Tom's feet whimpering in pain made them decide to give in.

Harry could practically feel the smug satisfaction rolling off Tom in waves. "Now, we wouldn't want anything untoward to happen to anyone. Don't want anyone to go missing or something equally _unpleasant_ should our involvement ever be associated with what happened to these unfortunate upstarts. So I trust you will all know it would be better for your health to keep this to yourself?" Tome said as the crowd murmured in agreement. Even the ones on the ground knew better than to report what had really happened to them because they had learned to fear the two of them tonight.

No one wanted to see how true Tom's threat really was and they wisely decided that nothing had happened. "Good," Tom said in low tones, "now pick up this trash and take care of it. From now on until you prove yourself worthy of being in our presence you are to stay away. I only have time for people _worth_ something and have no time to be spent on fools." Tom said stalking away dragging Harry along with him to their room. Once in their room Tom pressed her up against their closed door and kissed her square on the mouth.

It wasn't a kiss filled with passion, or with any sort of romance. No this kiss was one of possession, of marking, of taking, and it held only the feeling Tom could understand. Still Harry let him do as he willed, the kiss made her feel alive, it woke up that part of her she had thought had died a long time ago and that was all Harry needed. Tom would never be able to really understand emotions, he had a limited scope to work with and so he was often baffled by simple concepts that dealt with emotion.

Tom was a broken person, prone to violence, deceit and manipulation. He was a narcissist of the highest order and could never feel much more than ownership for her. However, Harry loved him anyways. She knew what he could and probably would become. She knew intimately that monster lurking under Tom's eyes and still she loved him. This man would cause her all sorts of misery, would probably be responsible for the deaths of countless precious people to her and in spite of it all Harry loved him.

As she kissed him back Harry acknowledged to herself that her mind was all sorts of messed up. She had lived too long, she had suffered too much, she had been splintered, broken, lost pieces of herself along the way and now nothing could really put her back together. In her first life she had been so similar to Tom Riddle, both orphans, both parselmouths, both hated and loved for things out of their control. Similar temperaments, they had been so similar in so many ways Harry had remembered being afraid of becoming just like Tom Riddle, aka Voldemort.

Yet, in spite of it all there was on glaring difference between the two of them. Tom had no concept of good and evil. Tom would never be able to understand morals, right from wrong, and could only respect power. Harry on the other hand knew good and evil. Had fought for the light, for justice, understood right from wrong and knew what darkness really was intimately. It used to be what had separated her from the monster she had been fighting once upon a time.

However, now that difference mattered very little to her. Now that difference was not so big as to distinguish her from the monster within Tom and in fact made her more of a monster than what Tom would become. Because Tom didn't understand, couldn't understand that what he would do, what he would become was wrong. Harry knew, Harry understood perfectly how wrong it all was…it was just she didn't care anymore. Good or Evil, right or wrong, it didn't matter anymore to Harry. The difference between them then was moot point, and all that mattered was she was walking into this darkness with eyes wide open.

She would walk into the darkness with the light at her back, knowing what she was turning her back on and how wrong it was of her to do. She would become a monster if Tom needed her to because Tom was what mattered to her now. The light, the warmth of fairness and righteousness had abandoned her long ago. So, now she was slipping into the cool embrace of 'I don't give a damn.' Tom was here, Tom was by her side, and that was all that mattered.

**~Dumbledore~**

Albus sat at the head table and looked at the Slytherin banners in the hall with thinly veiled distaste. The year had flown by and Slytherin house had won the house cup for the first time in fifteen years. Albus knew who was responsible of course, his eyes skimmed over the Slytherin table eyes falling on an exotic pair within their midst. Tom Riddle and Harry Vedette were well loved by the staff. Almost all of them had given the pair glowing reviews at the end of term meeting and Slughorn was nigh impossible to talk to now that he had those two in his house.

However, Albus knew better than to trust Tom Riddle's veneer and watched the boy closely. Albus was quite convinced that the boy was responsible for all the 'accidents' that had occurred this year to various students. Especially that rather large group of Slytherins that ended up in the hospital wing at the beginning of this year. Albus knew he could not prove it, not with all the students refusing to say it was more than an careless 'accident' and so he had simply resolved to watch the boy closely.

He still remembered the disturbing things that matron had told him when he had dropped off their letters and was very cautious around those two. His eyes fell onto the more curious of the two, Vedette. Harry Vedette was a mystery, because she wasn't like Tom. Tom made Albus feel wary; he trusted his instincts when it came to that, but Harry was different. Albus had seen her stop her fellow Slytherins from bullying the half giant Hagrid. It had taken him a long time to convince Dippet to allow the boy's admittance and so he had been keeping an eye on the boy for any violent tendencies.

However, Hagrid was a gentle soul and never once raised his hand to defend himself from even the most vigorous bullying. Albus had watched him be bullied enough to know for sure now that his trust hadn't been misplaced in that. However, it had been curious to see Harry stand up for the half giant and especially considering the boy was a Gryffindor. The act itself was noble, surprisingly so, but the other Slytherins reaction to her had him worried. They cowered away from her, they never again bullied Hagrid and in fact Dumbledore had seen the boy sitting with Harry in the library from time to time.

Tom was always with Harry, though, and he didn't much like Hagrid that much was obvious. Harry was a mystery, there was goodness in him but as long as he remained at Tom's side that side would not come forth. It reminded Albus of another pair of boys, one blond and charismatic, the other red haired and desperate for an escape. Albus saw a lot of his past self in Harry, it made it hard to look at him, it was like looking at his past self and reminded him of his grave mistakes. Tom reminded him disturbingly of the other boy, his possessiveness over Harry was eerily similar to _that man_ as well and Albus was frightened of the association.

Albus could only watch as a terror grew before him and he knew with some certainty that this boy would bring great darkness into the world. He could do little else but watch. It made him feel powerless and the frustration of being the only one to _see _the boy for what he was, was indescribable. All the rest were fooled by his talent, by his politeness, they perceived him as the next coming of Merlin and it was almost torture.

The worst of it was that there were six more years of this to come and he would be happy to see the day when Tom Riddle left Hogwarts for good. Albus wished he could convince the others of Tom's treachery, but they all thought him overly paranoid of the boy. They would scarcely believe Tom responsible if they found him standing over a dead body with blood on his hands. Tom was very good at having himself perceived in a favorable light and it would take a lot to change people's opinion of him. Still, Albus would watch, he would wait and when the time came he would stand against the monster Albus was sure Tom would become.

**A.N.: A little shorter than normal but I wanted to get this posted! It's been a combination of life getting in the way and writer's block. I have been trying to get this out for a long time now. Writing and rewriting it over and over! Lol well let me know what you think! Please Read and Review! **


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